E2: Implications
by Honeybee1111
Summary: E2 Universe. What happened to the crew in the weeks and months after being thrown back in time? Sticks to what was established in E2 then goes into an AU. Meaning plenty of TnT plus Reed angst and Archer stressing. Long, character-driven story.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: Paramount owns this universe and all its characters. I'm just playing with them.

Summary: Story takes place in the E2 timeline, in the days and weeks after the ship is thrown back in time. Everyone is mulling over their options and its starting to feel like mating season. Sticks to the events as described in E2, which means Archer hooks up with an alien, Trip & T'Pol get married, Phlox hooks up with Amanda and Malcolm gets his heart broken - a lot.

Authors Note: This is a pretty long, talk-y -character driven story that imagines how bizarre it must have been for the crew in the weeks after being thrown back in time. I'm grateful for any reviews. Currently, it's about half-way done. I would love feedback before continuing.

E2: Implications, Part 1

The stars were still in the wrong place. No matter how often Jonathan Archer examined the readings on his console, that didn't change. No matter how often he looked out the window, that didn't change. Now, he could only hope that T'Pol would find a way back through the corridor and back to their own time.

They had been at dead stop for nearly a week, and Jon could also only hope that the week had only passed in their time. T'Pol would need to get them back to their own time before the rendezvous with Degra, which if time was passing in the same way, was days passed. But couldn't the corridor take them back to the point in space/time where they left? Or would it be a week later? Or some other time? Or place?

Jon felt the beginning of a headache. He even wished Daniels would show up to help him understand all this and hopefully help them get back to their own time.

But hope was fading. T'Pol had never been enthusiastic about solutions to their dilemma, and lately she was getting positively grim about it. The corridor appeared to go one way only.

On the bright side, however, this time had given the crew a chance to make much needed repairs and even rest a bit. They had even had movie night, where they watched an ironic choice. _H.G. Wells's The Time Machine. _Ironic choice, that.

Moreover, for the first time since they entered the Expanse, the ship felt quiet.

Jon closed his eyes and tried to imagine Earth. Not the one he knew, but the one that existed at this point in time. World War III was raging, and billions were already dead. The whole planet had been torn apart by hate and greed and suspicion. Not only would they corrupt the timeline if they returned, they would likely be reviled. T'Pol had suggested returning instead to Vulcan, but since the science directorate rejected the notion of time travel, they would likely not be believed. Nor did Archer think his crew of humans would wish to live out their days as objects of curiosity on Vulcan.

The chime rang.

"Come in."

T'Pol came in, carrying a PADD as usual. She was wearing the blue Vulcan uniform today.

"I have been unable to come up with a solution, Captain," she said.

Jon inhaled deeply. It wasn't a surprise, but he still felt his stomach turning over.

"Maybe we can use this to our advantage," he said. "We know the exact date and time of the first Xindi probe's attack. . .we could wait until then and find a way to warn Earth."

T'Pol did not react.

"I've thought of two options," said Jon, "One - we could try and put ourselves in stasis and have ourselves revived somehow right before the attack. But I'm not sure that would work. We'd be vulnerable and there's no guarantee it would would work."

"What's the other solution?" asked T'Pol.

"We can start having babies," said Jon.

T'Pol raised an eyebrow.

"I mean, the crew can start having babies. All of us," said Jon, "I've heard of generational ships. Hell, Travis is a product of a generational ship. It can happen. We'll stay in the Expanse - learn everything we can about the Xindi and our descendants will stop them from attacking Earth."

Jon stared out the window. T'Pol placed the PADD down on the desk and joined him. She clasped her hands behind her back so he would not see her trembling.

"It is the more practical solution. Stasis would be risky, even if we could find the technology. But we will need to obtain fuel and supplies here in the Expanse. Perhaps we could find a Minshara class planet and settle there?"

Jon shook his head.

"We're still on a mission, and we need to survive but we also need to find everything we can about the Xindi. We're still here on a mission."

T'Pol nodded. He was being logical, as logical as he could in a highly illogical situation.

"I'll call a meeting of the senior officers first and explain to them. Then I'll tell the rest of the crew tonight. I don't think it will come as much of a surprise. I'm guessing everyone already knows."

T'Pol took a deep breath. Jon glanced at her. The Expanse had been hard on everyone, but the change in T'Pol had been acute. He heard slivers of emotion on her voice from time to time. And she looked tired. Maybe all this time among humans was affecting her emotional control. Maybe she needed to get home to Vulcan and be with her own people for awhile. Of course, that was impossible. T'Pol would be spending the rest of her life among humans. . .her long Vulcan life.

"T'Pol," said Jon hesitantly, "I know this a personal question, but given Vulcans long life span, do you think you'll be alive when the Xindi probe is launched?"

T'Pol looked her captain straight in the eye.

"It is possible. I would be elderly."

"In any case, you are going to be vital to this ship and this mission more than ever."

T'Pol nodded.

"I need you to call the command crew together. It's time to start looking forward."

"Yes sir," said T'Pol and she exited.

This was going to be hard on everyone, thought Jon, but especially on T'Pol and Phlox. At least his human crew would be exiled among their own kind, on a ship based on their own culture. But for the two aliens on his ship, their exile would be far more drastic. Phlox seemed well-adjusted enough, but he also had a family back on Denobula. He would never seen any of his wives or children again. Jon couldn't imagine what that would be like for him.

But Phlox would have to adjust. So would T'Pol and everyone on the ship. He would make certain of it. Their mission was the same, and it had just been extended. If they were to survive, they would need to focus on that.

*****

The meeting with the bridge officers went as well as to be expected. Jon did his best to keep them focused on practical matters, so as not to let them panic or fall into despair. There would be plenty of time to acclimate to this new order. He ordered Travis to begin a survey of all the nearby systems and identify any potential places to find supplies or Xindi settlements. He ordered Trip to continue repairs on the engines and other systems, and Malcolm to repair and upgrade weapons. T'Pol was to anticipate long term needs for space and equipment. For now, it would almost be like nothing had changed, except the pace of their journey.

"Travis," said Jon, "Set a course into the Expanse. Warp 2. It's not like we're in a hurry."

After he dismissed everyone, Trip hung back.

"How are you holding up?" Jon asked.

"I was about to ask you the same," he said. Trip looked even more exhausted than T'Pol. Things had been chaotic in engineering.

"It hasn't hit me yet," said Jon, "It's no different than when we were back in our own time. Except for the sinking feeling. . ."

"I had started thinking about this mission as going only one way," said Trip, "But this isn't what I had in mind."

Jon clasped his friend on the back. Jon hadn't anyone but an old girlfriend or two back on Earth. Everyone else he loved was on Enterprise. But Trip had parents and a brother and a nephew.

"You know what's funny," said Jon, "Eventually, over a hundred years from now, Starfleet will learn what happened to all of us. Our families will know why we disappeared."

Trip paused.

"What if our descendants show up and stop the Xindi attack and then we're never sent into the Expanse? What then?"

Jon felt the headache retuning.

"We can't worry about that. We, and I imagine the rest of the crew, will go crazy if we do. We've got a keep focused on the mission. The timeline will sort itself out. How is your crew?"

"I'm trying to keep them focused, but it's hard. One, we're suddenly not in immediate danger of being blown out of space. Two, they've all got a long time to think about being stuck in the Expanse for the rest of their lives."

Jon gazed down at the PADD in front of him with T'Pol's data. He spent one more moment trying to figure a way out. He even hoped Daniels would show up.

"I haven't told them yet, officially."

"But they know, sir. They know."

Jon nodded. Of course, everyone knew. There were no secrets on the ship.

*****

Jon left the cargo bay as soon as he dismissed the crew and headed back up to the bridge, where Hoshi had stayed in case something came up. She was still the only person on the bridge when he arrived.

"Hi Captain," she said with a smile, "You did great. I listened to the speech from here."

Jon sighed and took his seat in the captain's chair.

"Anything interesting happening?" asked the captain.

Hoshi shook her head.

"Only in that it isn't that interesting. I'm guessing that the Spheres haven't had such a profound effect on this part of the Expanse yet. There are far fewer anomalies than there were."

"At least, that's some good news."

Jon searched Hoshi's face. If anything, it appeared serene. More serene than T'Pol, but perhaps Hoshi was just better at accepting their situation than the others.

"How are you?" he asked. From his tone, Hoshi recognized that he wasn't asking his comm officer. He was asking his friend.

Hoshi adjusted the comm for a moment, as if she was trying to work out her own thoughts.

"Better than I thought I would be. I just keep thinking, we might have a chance to stop the first Xindi attack. That's more than we ever expected to be able to do on this mission. Whenever I feel panic or sadness coming on. . .I just remind myself of that. Besides, even though I've lost a lot, it isn't as though my life isn't on Enterprise. I didn't expect my _whole life_ to be on Enterprise, but I'm alive and still have plenty of time ahead of me."

Jon smiled for the first time in as long as he remembered. Hoshi was right. Their lives hadn't ended, their lives had just changed. It was his job to help the whole crew understand that, and remember the seven million lives they would all save.

****

Malcolm hurried into the mess hall and ordered himself some coffee. It was fairly empty, except for T'Pol in the corner. She wasn't examining a PADD as was her habit, but reading a paper book. From his vantage, Malcolm saw that it was in Vulcan. It occurred to him that she would never speak to another native speaker of her own language again. Vulcans in this period hadn't even begun to explore near the Expanse.

He approached her.

"May I sit down, Commander?"

T'Pol nodded.

"What are you reading?" asked Malcolm.

"The Teachings of Surak," replied T'Pol.

"I read some of that in translation. I had to take an alien literature class at school. . .it was very interesting."

T'Pol raised her eyebrow. Malcolm could have kicked himself. Calling Surak interesting was, to a Vulcan, akin to calling Shakespeare entertaining. It was insulting in its understatement.

"I find in times of crisis, Surak has much to teach," said T'Pol, "How are you. . .doing?"

T'Pol had spent enough time among humans to know that they liked being questioned about their feelings. Malcolm may have been the most Vulcan-like of all her colleagues, but even he was not immune to this quality of humans. In difficult times, they wanted to be asked how they felt.

"Fine, I guess. . ." replied Malcolm, "I suppose I've not allowed myself to think about the future. But I then again, all we have now is the future. It's odd to think that within a year there will likely be babies being born. . . and soon after that children running about the ship. . .it's difficult to imagine."

"Vulcans don't imagine," said T'Pol, "Though the Captain has asked me to anticipate potential new uses of space. I will suggest that eventually one of the larger labs on deck 4 could be turned into a school."

Malcolm glanced down at T'Pol's elegant hands and then, without thinking, up to her chest. He hoped she hadn't noticed, especially since Malcolm knew that it was unlikely T'Pol would ever consider him a potential partner. Not if the rumors about her and Trip were true. Malcolm had heard that T'Pol had reacted quite jealously to Trip's flirtation with the female MACO, and that Trip had stopped socializing with Amanda as a result. As far as Malcolm was concerned, that could only mean one thing, though Trip certainly wasn't talking. His earlier denials had suspiciously ceased.

"How's Trip handling all this? I've hardly seen him this week. I've been busy with the weapons systems and he's been busy in engineering."

T'Pol blinked at Malcolm. She was aware of the human habit of asking about other humans feelings - as opposed to asking the person directly, but it never failed to make her uncomfortable. It was bad enough when someone asked her about herself. Besides that, Malcolm's question seemed to imply that she would have some special knowledge of Commander Tucker's feelings.

"He seems very focused on the engines, as he should be," said T'Pol. Over the years, she had become somewhat proud of her ability to deflect human prying. Another technique, she learned was to ask a question in response to one. It took her a moment, but she thought of one.

"Have you thought of which female among the crew you might take as a mate?" asked T'Pol.

Malcolm nearly choked on his coffee. That was the last question he expected from a Vulcan.

"It's only logical to think about it. You are a strong and capable member of this crew, and your genes would contribute greatly to the next generation. This afternoon I overheard several females discussing potential choices for mates . . ."

"Did my name come up?" asked Malcolm before he realized what he had blurted out.

"No," said T'Pol simply, "They were focused on more junior members of the crew. However, I expect the captain will relax the rules against senior officers fraternizing with junior officers. If not, your options will be quite limited."

Malcolm smirked. Apparently, T'Pol was more imaginative than she gave herself credit. Someone was going to have to make the children to fill the school she was designing and everyone on board knew it. He leaned over and looked the Vulcan straight in the eye.

"If the captain doesn't lift the rules, my only options are Hoshi...and you, Commander," said Malcolm, who could barely believe he had started teasing the Vulcan.

T'Pol's faced showed no reaction.

"Ensign Sato is an attractive woman," she said, "And highly academically gifted."

"She is that," said Malcolm, "And since you're off the market, I might just have to ask Hoshi out for coffee. . ."

"Vulcans and Humans have never mated successfully," said T'Pol, "So it is unlikely I will mate with anyone. . ." T'Pol paused, "But that's not what you meant by 'off the market.'"

"No," said Malcolm, "You see, there's a code among human males. We don't chase after our friends' girlfriends. It just isn't done. And Trip is my friend. . ."

"I am not Commander Tucker's _girl_ friend," said T'Pol.

Truth be told, however, she was vividly remembering their recent sexual encounter.

Malcolm heard a slight edge in her voice and knew he hit a nerve. It couldn't be easy for her, he thought. It was hard enough being an Englishman on a ship with mostly Americans. Being a Vulcan and constantly questioned about one's feelings must be terribly awkward for her. On the other hand, if she didn't step up soon, she might just spend the rest of her long life alone. Even Vulcans weren't meant to do that.

"Maybe not," said Malcolm, "But ask yourself this, do you want him mating with any of the other women on this ship? No, don't answer. . .I don't need to know. You need to know the answer to that question. And you need to tell Trip and soon."

The words came out before Malcolm even thought to withhold them. Their peculiar situation had changed him. It had changed everything.

For her part, T'Pol thought of deflecting or denying yet again, but she didn't. Malcolm was correct. Trip wouldn't wait for her, not under the new circumstances. She did not like the idea of him mating with another female. Though interspecies mating was illogical and difficult, it had suddenly become her only option.

But was Trip her only option? She looked at Malcolm. She couldn't imagine taking him as a mate, despite the fact that his English reserve was far more Vulcan than Trip's Southern effusiveness. She thought of Phlox, as it would be logical to pair off with the only other alien on the ship. They did have that in common. She remembered the grace with which he hand handled her premature Pon Farr. Of course, he also revealed then that he wasn't attracted to her. T'Pol's mind wandered to Major Hayes of the MACOs. He was a strong man of appropriate age, but he was not a great intellect. They would have nothing in common. Then, T'Pol thought of the captain and paused...they were close and had a great deal of affection for one another. He was a handsome and capable man, and T'Pol knew that he was attracted to her. It made sense. It was logical. Except that T'Pol couldn't imagine taking the captain as a mate because she could only imagine taking Trip as one.

Perhaps Vulcans were more imaginative than she admitted even to herself.

She tried to picture cohabiting with Trip. He was not logical. Not at all. He couldn't even talk about the warp engines without getting passionate. He laughed and made jokes all the time. He was charming, emotional. Un-Vulcan.

But to her shock, T'Pol realized that she didn't want Trip despite his utter and complete infuriating humanness. She wanted him because of it. She had even come to enjoy the way he smelled.

"Commander, are you all right?" asked Malcolm, who was intently trying to read T'Pol's face, "I didn't mean to speak of things that aren't my business...but then again I suppose everyone's business is suddenly everyone else's now."

"It's all right, lieutenant," said T'Pol, who had begun to formulate a plan in her head.

The Vulcan stood up.

"You should get some rest," she said, "We have more time now. I think we could all use rest."

With that, T'Pol disappeared from the mess hall and Malcolm was left both envying his friend Trip and worrying for him. Most human women didn't know when to stop expressing their feelings, but surely too much emotion would be easier to deal with than loving a woman culturally prohibited from expressing feelings.

Malcolm's mind wandered to Hoshi, whom he had see dining with four strapping MACOs the day before. Surely someone would snap her up soon, thought Malcolm. If he did want to pursue her, he would need to move soon. But would that be fair, he thought? Especially since he was not in love with her. Not yet, anyway. But he could imagine falling in love with her. Wasn't that the same thing?

The last vestiges of Malcolm's coffee were ice cold, and frankly the caffeine was no longer keeping him awake. He decided to head back to his quarters, where he soon found himself in a dreamless sleep.

****

The next afternoon, T'Pol sat on a biobed as Phlox examined her. His animals appeared more active than ever, twittering and jabbering in their various cages. But there were no other patients in sickbay. It felt strange, since the Xindi mission had started sickbay was usually one of the more crowded areas of the ship. But no longer.

"You must be honest with me, Commander. Have you taken any Trellium-D lately?"

T'Pol reached up an rubbed her temple.

"No."

"Have you been tempted?"

"No." She answered truthfully. She wanted nothing more to do with that substance, "But my emotional control has not fully returned."

Phlox walked over to one of his many cages and tended to a squawking creature.

"We discussed that. It will take a great deal of time to heal, and even then it is possible you will not regain full control," Phlox paused and then continued, "But have you ever thought that this terrible situation we have found ourselves in might benefit you?"

T'Pol did not respond. Phlox continued.

"You see, among Vulcans, your emotions would be immediately recognized. You would very likely become an outcast among your own people...now, don't deny it. There's much to recommend Vulcan culture, but they are not known for their tolerance of those among them who cannot control their emotions. However, it is unlikely most humans would ever even notice your emotional. . .lapses. You would appear as Vulcan as ever to them. Unless of course you became very close to one of them. But in any case, our situation here in the Expanse has prevented you from becoming an outcast among your people by forcing you to live among humans who are for the most part incapable of seeing anything unusual about you. It may not be ideal, but it's one way of looking at the situation."

Phlox knew better than expect a response from his Vulcan patient.

"Otherwise, you continue to respond to the medication I've been giving you for the Pa'Nar Syndrome and you seem in excellent health."

T'Pol got down from the bio bed and walked over to a display screen on the far wall. It appeared to be the Denobulan genome.

"Thank you, Doctor," said T'Pol, suddenly feeling as though she had violated Phlox's privacy.

"Your welcome. And I've something else to discuss with you," said Phlox. He walked over to her, seemingly un-offended.

"You see, I've been researching whether or not you or I would be able to contribute to the next generation of this ship."

Phlox lit a second screen and revealed the Vulcan genome. Specifically, her Vulcan genome. T'Pol examined it, as well as some notes the doctor had made.

"Are you interested in hearing about my findings?"

T'Pol looked positively uncomfortable, but still interested. She nodded.

"A Vulcan/Human hybrid might have a significantly longer life span than a pure human. That child might serve to bridge the gap between generations. It would be a logical addition to the ship's population," she said in a rather small voice.

"My thoughts exactly," said Phlox, "And as you can see, it would only take a little bit of doing on my part. May I ask if you are expecting your Vulcan mating cycle soon?"

T'Pol appeared absolutely mortified. Phlox continued as though he didn't notice.

"I think the process would go smoother during your natural mating cycle, though we could induce one without too much trouble...but really all it would take is one hypospray a few days before your cycle kicks in and we could avoid a more invasive in-vitro procedure."

"Vulcan women's Pon Farr cycles are usually tied in with their mates. But since I am unbonded, one is likely to occur on its own within a year," said T'Pol.

"Ah, well then, you have a big decision to make..." said Phlox.

"Yes," said T'Pol, "The decision to have a child under such unusual circumstances is a serious one - worthy of much consideration."

"Oh my dear," said Phlox, "I thought you had made that decision. I was referring to who will be the father of the first human/Vulcan hybrid."

T'Pol again looked mortified. Phlox continued.

"The whole ship thinks you are romantically involved with Commander Tucker," said Phlox, "But there are other options...the captain for instance..."

T'Pol headed straight for the door. She turned, her face again a mask.

"Thank you, doctor," said T'Pol, "I shall consider everything you have said."

With that, the Vulcan headed out of sick bay. On the way in, the MACO called Amanda passed by on her way to see Phlox. She smiled at T'Pol.

"Hello Commander," she said.

Her face remained serene as she passed by and nodded. T'Pol thought of telling Amanda just how jealous Vulcan women could be about their bonded mates - though it wasn't usually something Vulcans ever discussed with outsiders. They rarely even discussed it among themselves. It's just that everyone knew.

T'Pol heard Amanda laugh quite loudly from sickbay. It was a more irritating laugh than most humans, she thought. Trip's laugh wasn't nearly so grating. It was pleasant to hear thought T'Pol as she headed up toward the bridge.

****

"T'Pol, may I see you in my ready room?" said Jon.

T'Pol nodded and followed her captain into the ready room. She smelled Porthos immediately and saw the dog curled up under the captain's desk.

"How is the crew? In your opinion?" he asked.

"I'm not the best judge," said T'Pol, "But I sense a lack of emotion among the crew. It's odd. People had a higher level of anxiety before we became trapped here. . ."

"I suppose the lack of urgency is a kind of relief," said Jon.

"Phlox indicated to me this morning that there is very little sickness or injury among the crew," said T'Pol.

"That's one good thing," said Jon, "I've asked Trip to compile a list of suggestions for prolonging the life of key systems. Ensign Baker says that the hydroponic garden is as healthy as ever and can be expanded if she's given more room. Hoshi thinks she's found a planet nearby where we might be able to trade for some supplies. . .it almost feels like the first year of our mission. Suddenly, I feel like an explorer rather than an warrior. . ."

Porthos lifted his head up and Jon reached down and patted him.

"The nice thing about dogs is that they only worry about the right now," said Jon, "They keep you grounded in the moment. They don't let you worry too much about tomorrow or yesterday."

"When will we reach this planet, sir?"

"Three days," said Jon, "And I can tell you I'm looking forward to getting some fresh air. If the planet proves hospitable, I'm thinking we can stay in orbit for awhile so everyone on board can have some time on surface. R&R has been mostly absent these last few months. I think everyone is long overdue."

"I'll put together a schedule," said T'Pol.

*****

Two days later, Hoshi rounded the corner just outside her quarters and nearly tripped when she saw Travis and a young woman in each other's arms. She was a blond MACO and very pretty. They were kissing so enthusiastically that they didn't notice that they were no longer alone.

Hoshi cleared her throat.

"Hi Hoshi," said Travis cheerfully, "How are you?"

"Not as good as you," she said, "Carry on."

Damn, thought Hoshi, Travis sure didn't waste any time as she continued down the hallway and into the gym. There she found Trip running on the treadmill.

"Hi Hoshi," he said breathlessly.

She climbed up on the treadmill next to him.

"I hear you're going with us on the first away mission to the planet," said Hoshi,

"That's right," said Trip, "It feels like old times. Now that the warp engine isn't fried, I can see if they've got anything we could use on the surface. I hear its going to be the captain, Malcolm, you and me going down first."

"Yes," said Hoshi, "T'Pol's going to hold down the fort up here."

Hoshi glanced over at Trip to see if his expression changed at all at the mention of T'Pol's name. The whole ship thought they were involved, though they were both doing their damnedest to try and keep it a secret. Why they would continue to do so at this point, she didn't know.

"How are you holding up?" she asked. "You know, with the never going to see Earth again, stuck back in time on the ship thing."

Trip laughed out loud.

"I suppose it hasn't really hit me yet. It's not like if we hadn't gone through the corridor, we'd be back home. Things haven't changed much. They've just slowed down. And frankly, I was beginning to believe we weren't ever going to get back to Earth. So I guess this is a preferable outcome that what I was thinking. How about you?"

Hoshi slowed down her run to a walk.

"I've been thinking about my family," said Hoshi, "but I'm surprised at how little I'm worried. I guess because I feel like in a hundred or so years someone is going to tell them that I got to live a long, happy life flying around the Expanse. Does that make sense?"

Trip slowed down to a walk as well.

"You know, it's funny, I've been thinking about Elizabeth. Not only hasn't she been born yet - she hasn't died yet. Our descendants might save her life. It kinda lifts the veil of grief. . ."

"Only in the Expanse," said Hoshi quietly, "By the way, I just saw Travis and some MACO in the hallway. They looked about ready to get started on one of those descendants, if you know what I mean."

"Good for Travis. . .was she cute?"

Hoshi shrugged, "I think so. I didn't get a good look at her. But yeah, I think she's worthy of Travis."

"It's hard to believe," sighed Trip, "That there will be children on this ship before we know it. Little Travises running around. I think I'll like that. . .it will cheer the place up."

"What about you?" asked Hoshi, "And thoughts on a Charles Tucker IV?"

Trip stopped walking and caught Hoshi's eye. Was she suggesting herself as the mother of the Fourth?

"Don't flatter yourself, Commander. I was just wondering if you think there's a possibility that Charles Tucker IV will have pointed ears?"

Trip stuttered a little, then was silent. Trip knew all about the gossip, but that didn't make it any easier to respond.

"I'll take that as a maybe," said Hoshi.

"It's not that simple," said Trip, "Dating a Vulcan is hard enough...I can't imagine what it would be like to be married to one."

Hoshi laughed. Normally, she would have left it at that, but the new circumstances had made her bolder about butting into other people's business.

"Well, then maybe you should picture yourself NOT married to T'Pol. And T'Pol married to someone else. How does that make you feel?"

Trip stuttered some more.

"All I'm saying is that none of us are in a position to dither around any more. The survival of Earth depends on all of us... including you and Commander T'Pol . . .getting over ourselves. Interspecies relationships may be hard. But I'll wager the next fifty years of your life will be much harder without T'Pol than with her."

Trip nodded.

"But can I give you a piece of advice?" asked Hoshi. "I've studied Vulcan since I was a child. And that also means studying Vulcans. It should go without saying, that they don't talk about their feelings. Ever. If you try and get her to admit that she cares for you, it's going to be a disaster. If you think she she cares for you, watch her actions. Vulcans show affection. They don't ever verbalize it."

"I'll take that under advisement," said Trip.

****

The night before he was to leave with the away team, Trip decided to ring at T'Pol's door. The last time he had visited her for neural pressure hadn't gone well, but that was before the corridor. BC, before the corridor. Everything was now divided between before and after.

"Come in, Commander" she said.

She was on the floor, legs crossed in front of one of her many candles. She was wearing the red pajamas, which he hadn't seen in weeks. They were his favorite.

Trip walked around and sat down on the other side of the candle.

"How are you?" he said.

Dammit, he thought of Hoshi's good advice too late.

"I mean. ..that's what I mean, how are you?"

T'Pol opened her eyes. Part of her still wanted to fight the emotions that his presence inspired in her. It was pure Vulcan instinct to do so. But that would be illogical given their circumstances. Her life was among humans, now, and though she could never fully become human - she knew that she must make adjustments.

"Under the circumstances, I am holding up well," she said.

"Glad to hear it," he said, "You seem better than you were the last time I saw you. Are you up for a little neural pressure? I sure could use some. . ."

T'Pol caught his eyes. She had made a decision to try something - an experiment, that if it was successful, it would have even more implications for them than their sexual relations.

"I want to try something else," said T'Pol, "Take my hand."

Without hesitation, Trip placed his hand in hers.

"Close your eyes," she said.

He obeyed and suddenly he felt awash in serenity - he felt at peace, no longer alone. He felt loved.

_Whoa, I didn't see that coming._

So far, so good. T'Pol knew that humans could form light telepathic links with Vulcans, but she had never heard of a human and a Vulcan forming a mating bond. She didn't even know if they could - but as her mind connected deeper and deeper with Trip's - she thought it might just be possible to bond with him. Gently, she pulled back.

"Wow," he said. He opened his mouth to speak again but found there was nothing that needed to be said. He knew she loved him. He also knew that for a Vulcan, that was not an easy thing to deal with.

T'Pol looked into his eyes, and he kissed her.

She knew he wanted to stay, but she worried that if he did that the bond would go further, become permanent. She didn't know the effect it would have on a human or whether Trip truly understood the implications of forming a telepathic mating bond with her. Marriages could be dissolved, telepathic bonds could not.

But then she suddenly realized he knew all of that, the moment she thought it. The bond, it was already there. She kept kissing him back, and slipped her hand back into his.

_It is not too late. But if you stay, the bond may be permanent. _

_I'm staying._

*****

Trip awoke, for the first time, in T'Pol's quarters. Never before had he spent the night here. She was awake. Her face expressionless.

"Good morning," he said.

"Good morning," she replied, "You had better get dressed. You have less than an hour before the away team is to depart."

He kissed her lightly on the lips and began to dress. She followed suit, chatting about the goals of the expedition to the surface and what she would be doing while he was away. It all seemed like very mundane conversation, yet Trip felt as though she was declaring her love to him. He supposed that for a Vulcan, she was.

_Vulcans don't talk about their feelings._

_You just now realized that, Commander?_

_A piece of advice from Hoshi. But I don't think she realized why Vulcans don't have to talk about their feelings. _

"You were conversing with Ensign Sato about me?" asked T'Pol.

"Well, yeah. She was trying to be helpful," said Trip.

T'Pol didn't answer, but Trip also knew she wasn't mad either.

"You know," said Trip, "I wonder if the captain could learn to perform a traditional Vulcan wedding ceremony."

T'Pol was silent. Trip thought for a moment about getting down on one knee, but that gesture would have no meaning to T'Pol. No, he decided that offering to learn a series of complex Vulcan vows would be the kind of gesture she would find romantic.

_Are you proposing marriage?_

_That depends, are you accepting? _

Trip could feel a strange weight lifting from T'Pol's psyche. At that moment, he understood just what she was giving up. Humans were far more tolerant of rebellion against tradition. By marrying him, she was giving up ever being fully accepted by other Vulcans. And she was fine with that. He also knew that had circumstances been different, she might not be so willing. But he was fine with that.

"You'll always be a Vulcan. I don't want you to change. I want you to be true to yourself."

"A traditional Vulcan ceremony would be gratifying. . .but I'll have to start teaching the captain the proper pronunciation."

"We'll need to tell him," said Trip, reluctantly. For some reason, he wanted to keep their relationship to themselves, just for a little while. Trip also sensed just how reticent T'Pol was about drawing attention to her personal life. She may not have cared what the crew thought of her, but she didn't relish the idea of being the center of attention - no matter how positive the attention. Human fussing wasn't going to sit well with her.

"Let's wait a few weeks," said T'Pol, "The captain has enough to worry about without memorizing Vulcan vows."

_You know not to tell anyone about the bond?_

_No, no I won't. It will be our little secret. Big secret. _

Trip understood that this bond was a huge Vulcan deal, and something that was not talked about.

"Our relationship is hardly a secret," said Trip, "In fact, most everyone thinks more has been going on than actually has been."

"Still, I see no need to announce it just yet," said T'Pol.

Trip understood.

"Besides," continued T'Pol, "We should probably time our. . .honeymoon to my mating cycle. I expect it within the year. That way the Pon Farr won't interfere with my duties."

Thanks to this new bond, Trip knew better than to crack a joke about Vulcan mating cycles. Pon Farr was serious, potentially deadly business for her. He realized she was also worried for him.

_My Pon Farr might trigger a similar cycle in you._

_We'll deal with that when the times comes. _

T'Pol worried about that. She knew nothing of how the bond or the Pon Farr would affect a human. She even sense a small amount of anticipation in Trip. For Vulcans, the great loss of dignity and control was viewed as a necessary evil. Typical for a human to look upon such an event with - excitement.

Trip, who by now was fully dressed, leaned down and kissed her. To his gratification, the action calmed her irritation.

_This isn't going to be so hard._

He thought the words to himself, but realized immediately that she heard them.

_Don't be so certain._

"Have a pleasant time on the surface, Commander," said T'Pol.

"You know," said Trip, "Maybe when we're alone you can call me Trip."

With that, he turned around and left her quarters, grateful that there were no stray crew members in the hall.

***

Hoshi and Malcolm were the first two officers to meet at Shuttlepod One.

"How are you, ensign?" said Malcolm.

"Just fine," said Hoshi, "Looking forward to some fresh air, and perhaps meeting some people who don't want to destroy us or rob us or generally make our lives miserable."

Malcolm leaned back against the shuttle and folded his arms.

"I think all this quiet has gone to your head. Just because the people on this planet don't aspire to wipe out all of humanity, that doesn't make them friendly. What have you learned from their transmission?"

"The town is an Ikkarren colony. They are basically traders. Their home world is about 25 light years from here, but they have colonies and freighters scattered all over the Expanse. The captain thinks they could not only provide us with supplies but with information as well."

Hoshi fiddled with the UT.

"There are three separate Ikkaren dialects. I'm working on what appears to be the most common."

"Feels like old times," said Malcolm, "Except now we don't have Starfleet Command or the Vulcans looking over our shoulder. We're on our own."

"It's a little scary. . ." replied Hoshi, "But also kind of exciting. Out here, nobody is sending a rescue party. It's up to us to survive. In a way, it's the biggest challenge any of us has ever faced. . ." she said.

"You don't seem scared," said Malcolm.

Hoshi remembered back to her early days on Enterprise, when she jumped at every engine hiccup and every first contact sent her into a near panic. Now, she felt that whatever the Expanse was going to throw at her, she could handle it. She didn't have a choice. There was no fleeing to the safety of home. Enterprise was home.

"It's like we're pioneers," said Hoshi, "Like an old wagon train from a movie. There's only moving forward...I guess I could let it sink me. But I'm not."

Malcolm searched Hoshi's face for any sign that she was talking herself into this sunny attitude. But she wasn't acting. She really did think they were on an adventure.

"By the way, I saw Travis snogging one Corporeal McKenzie in the hallway. They weren't even trying to be discreet," said Hoshi.

Malcolm lowered his voice and looked around.

"I heard Trip went T'Pol's quarters last night. Except that no one saw him leave. I knocked on his door this morning - he wasn't there."

Hoshi laughed out loud. So much for the worst kept secret on the ship.

"It appears half the crew is screwing all of a sudden - for the good of humanity," she replied.

"What else are we going to do with all this time we've suddenly got on our hands?"

Malcolm and Hoshi's eyes met - he wondered for just a second if he should say something. Ask her for coffee. Coffee, after all, meant sex these days.

They were interrupted with footsteps from around the corner. It was the Captain.

"Hi Captain," said Hoshi.

"Good Morning," said Malcolm, regaining his composure.

"You two look happy this morning," said Jon, "Glad to see you're taking a positive attitude."

Hoshi smiled at the captain.

"Just looking forward to an old fashioned first contact," said Hoshi, "Without the _immediate_ threat of genocide hanging over our heads."

It occurred to Hoshi that the captain was probably the only one on the ship who was unaware of the all the gossip, innuendo and sexual tension that had gripped the ship over the past ten days. Hoshi guessed that he probably didn't even know about Trip and T'Pol, even though he worked closely with them every day. Being captain must be so isolating.

Trip arrived next.

"I hope I'm not late," he said.

"No, right on time," said Jon.

With that, he briefed everyone on their assignments for the day, and they loaded themselves into the shuttlepod. The planet was blue, not Earth blue, but slightly lighter, with a tinge of yellow in the atmosphere. Jon looked down and hoped that things would go smoothly.

***

The away team had been on the surface of the planet for nearly five hours. The settlement was surprisingly large, and quite civilized. The cobblestone streets were clean and well maintained, with lamp posts and benches lining either side. The settlement had been built alone the river and several pleasure craft appear to sail alongside barges and transports. Several elaborate buildings appeared more than a century old, with stylized ornamentation and colored windows. Most of the buildings had elaborate landscape, with blooming flowers overflowing from pots and beds.

There were outdoor markets selling everything from clothing and jewelry to animals and all kinds of exotic, colorful foods. There were also shops selling more high end goods, including art. Most of the people were Ikkaren, but several other species roamed the streets. No Xindi, though.

All in all, these Ikkaren seems sophisticated and civilized, with an interest in art and music as well as science. A small orchestra was playing in a nearby square, and children played by a fountain of pink water. There were some police roaming around, but the settlement generally felt safe.

The Ikkarens themselves were humanoid, with some ridges on their faces and long spindly fingers. Hoshi didn't have a difficult time picking up their language, which she found elegant and suspected it would produce some great literature. There was a poetic meter in their everyday speech.

Malcolm and Trip were still off in the eastern part of the settlement looking to find spare parts for weapons, engines and every other system on the ship. Hoshi had traded some spare conduits for Ikkaren currency, and so she and Jon were sitting in a cafe and sampling the local cuisine. It was surprisingly palatable, even a bit spicy.

"I think this tea might be alcoholic," said Hoshi, as she took a sip.

Jon downed the rest of his.

"I think so," said Jon, "It's not bad. If I wasn't captain I'd have another."

Hoshi flagged down their waitress and ordered another round.

"I won't tell anyone, sir," said Hoshi, "But you do look like you could use another one. And it's not like you can get in trouble with starfleet command anymore."

When the order arrived, Jon lifted his cup and toasted.

"To horrible freedom," he said.

"So," he continued,"what's going on with the crew? How are people handling all this? How is morale?"

Hoshi took a big gulp of her tea, which was indeed fermented somehow, but she wasn't even close to being tipsy yet.

"Strange. . .I suppose if something like this had happened a year ago, people would be more upset. But it's almost like people are enjoying that the time pressure is off. . .that we have over a hundred years before Earth is in danger. . .I don't know."

"I've been thinking about adding more recreation to the ship," said Jon, "Movie night is fun - but I am going to ask Trip about turning Cargo Bay Three into a swimming pool. Maybe put together a water polo team.."

"You're the Captain," said Hoshi, "If the Xindi Aquatics can have spaceships, I'm pretty sure we can manage a pool. It's good exercise, swimming. And we're going to need all the recreational outlets we can get. . .and swimming is good for children, too."

Jon shook his head. Children being born in deep space wasn't a new concept, after all Travis was a boomer. But he never thought he'd be in command of ship filled with children. Moreover, he was in the peculiar position of actually needing his crew to create children. He'd thought about even ordering people to start having them, but that seemed a little much at this early stage. The crew was filled with young people, he hoped nature would take its course soon enough.

"Do you think people are going to start having children soon?" asked Jon, "Since its now part of our mission. As awkward as that is," said Jon.

Hoshi nodded.

"With all the fooling around that's been going on the ship in the last week," said Hoshi, "It's only a matter of time. Tedium plus a sudden limitation of one's options seems to have been quite inspiring."

Jon flinched. As far as he had always been concerned, the personal lives of his crew weren't any of his business as long nothing interfered with the ship's mission. But now the ship's mission and the crew's personal lives had become intertwined in a way that made everything his business. And yet, he didn't want to ask and didn't want to know.

"I wouldn't worry too much about the next generation, sir," said Hoshi, "I'm pretty sure it will take care of itself. And probably sooner rather than later."

Jon gestured toward the Ikkaren children playing in the square.

"We'll have to set up schools and playgrounds on Enterprise. They'll be children - human children, who will live their whole lives on board."

"You know," said Hoshi, "I don't envy Vulcans their long lives. You realize T'Pol is going to watch all of us grow old and die. As Vulcan as she is, that's not going to be easy."

Jon furrowed a bit. He had up until then thought of T'Pol's lifespan as nothing but an asset. It hadn't occurred to him that she would eventually be put in a very lonely position.

"Of course," said Hoshi, "Her children might have much longer life spans, even if they are only half Vulcan."

Jon furrowed again. Ordering T'Pol to create long-lived children was something that he hoped he wouldn't have to do. Hopefully, she would find it logical, under the circumstances. Before he could help it, he tried to picture what a child of his and T'Pol's might look like. Would he or she have pointed ears? Dark hair? For a split second, he also pictured himself making love to his first officer. . .it was a pleasant thought, one that he put out of his mind immediately.

"Phlox is working on ways to combine Vulcan and human genomes. And Human and Denobulan. He's thinking ahead, I guess," said Jon.

Hoshi searched her captain's face. He wasn't revealing much of what he was thinking. But she couldn't blame him. The radically altered circumstances were enough to give anyone whiplash.

Hoshi thought for a moment that a psychologist might have been useful aboard the ship. She would have thought the idea absurd weeks ago, but stress had begun to crack even the coolest, calmest crew members before the corridor.

Hoshi wondered if the captain had someone to talk to. He and T'Pol seemed close, but she wasn't exactly one to lend emotional support. More like suppress-your-emotional support. The captain was friends with Trip, but men like them didn't talk feelings. They talked water-polo or football.

It occurred to Hoshi that the captain probably looked great in his water polo swimsuit. She might enjoy seeing that. . .he was a little old for her, but he was the captain and. . .Hoshi's mind wandered somewhere she didn't want it to go.

The tea might have been stronger than she thought. The captain wasn't an option, thought Hoshi. He'd never think of her that way.

"What do you think of the Ikkarens?" asked the Captain.

"I think we can trust them," said Hoshi, "I think they might make good allies. They seem open to learning about new species."

Jon drank down the last bit of his tea. It felt good to be an explorer again.

*****

Three day later, Malcolm lay in sickbay with a particle burn on his hand. Phlox's osmotic eel sucked away at the wound, and Malcolm stared at the ceiling. Standard phasers were best most of the time, certainly more humane but some species didn't respond. Since they didn't know who or what awaited them, Malcolm felt it best to stay prepared and that meant a compliment of particle weapons at the ready. It was unfortunate that one of the disrupters had slightly overloaded during a test.

"Glad to see you are awake," said Phlox, "Your burn is almost healed."

Phlox came and removed the slimy creature from Malcolm's hand. Just then, the MACO called Amanda strolled into sickbay. From where Malcolm sat, she looked perfectly healthy. It didn't stop her from jumping up on one of the bio-beds.

"Hello, Doctor," she said, "I think I've pulled that same muscle again."

Malcolm caught the unmistakable flirtation in her voice. Clearly, the young woman wasn't too broken hearted over Trip and had moved on to, of all people, Dr. Phlox.

"Ouch!" said Amanda as she looked down at Malcolm's hand, "That looks like it hurts. And is slimy. But then...I'm sure Phlox is working his magic on you."

Malcolm felt a little sick to his stomach, but it wasn't from the burns. He hoped he'd be able to get out of there soon.

****

T'Pol opened her eyes and found herself in unfamiliar quarters. She jerked up quickly and remembered that she was in Trip's quarters. She was alone, however. She pulled the covers up over her body and wondered why she had not thought to bring nightclothes with her. Since Vulcans didn't date, she wasn't used to thinking ahead. Trip had obviously not wanted to wake her - likely he had been called to engineering.

T'Pol had never been alone in his quarters before. In fact, she had only been there a handful of times. She looked around at the photographs of his family and engineering manuels. There was also a photograph on one of the early away missions, the one that had culminated in her shooting Trip with a phase pistol. The photograph had been taken before the away mission had devolved so badly. The humans all looked so excited to be exploring a new place, so like their home, yet so different.

There wasn't much in Trip's quarters that surprised her, except the fact that it was so neat. She would have expected more chaos from him, given the state of his emotions. She slowly got up and dressed, breathing deeply. The air felt good in her lungs.

He usually came to her room, but he had invited her to his quarters to watch a movie in private. Date night, he had called it.

He had chosen a black and white film called _Ninotchka_, starring an actress called Greta Garbo. She played a twentieth century woman who had embraced logic, only to abandon it when she falls in love with a Parisian. T'Pol appreciated the bittersweet ending when the protagonist chooses to stay with her lover than return to her logical, ordered society.

T'Pol looked around the small space. It occurred to her that it was barely enough for one person, let alone two. Her quarters were the same. And these were some of the larger quarters on the ship, besides the captain's. If people were to begin cohabiting, then they would need to reconfigure living quarters. Perhaps they could combine two adjacent quarters, she thought.

Knowing she was needed on the bridge, she exited and headed toward her own quarters. She wanted to change into a fresh uniform, at the very least. She hadn't made it twenty yards down the hall before running into the captain.

"Good morning, T'Pol," said Jon, who was pretending not to have noticed her coming out of Trip's quarters.

Jon knew Trip was in engineering, and so she had been in his quarters alone. That could only mean one thing. I mean, what would she be doing coming out of his quarters first thing in the morning, in the same color uniform she had been wearing the day before? She always rotated colors.

It shouldn't come as a surprise, though Jon, the two had been tight ever since they entered the Expanse. And Trip had made that neural pressure business did sound like it was rather . . .fun.

"Good morning, Captain," said T'Pol.

"Heading to the Bridge?" said Jon, "I'm on my way myself."

"I need to retrieve something from my quarters. I'll be there shortly."

With that, T'Pol slipped away. She wondered for a moment if the captain had noticed her coming out of Commander Tucker's quarters, but she brushed the thought aside. She wasn't yet ready to reveal their bonding, yet, not even to the captain. Besides, there was no reason to think that he would extrapolate anything from such a small bit of information.

She was wrong, of course. As a Vulcan, she was completely oblivious to the human ability to take a small bit of information and imagine entire complex scenarios to fill in the blanks. Jon, as he headed up to the bridge, was doing just that.

Have I really been that clueless? Could his two senior officers, his two best friends on the ship be involved without him realizing it? Small moments flashed into his head. Trip and T'Pol working so well together in the Old West town of North Star. The nearly emotional way T'Pol had reacted when Trip was in a coma. The countless times he had found the two together in the mess hall or working side by side in engineering...had he really been so dense?

Jon shook off the feeling of jealousy and disappointment. It was hardly appropriate for him to pair off with any member of his crew, let alone his first officer. And if his two best friends could find happiness in this crazy situation they had found themselves in - so be it.

It occurred to Jon that he might well have to spend the rest of his life alone. Such was the burden of command. It was a sad thought, but one he hoped he would come to accept.

****

Hoshi, for her part, decided to go for a run - not in the gym - but around the decks that people used for a track. In her head, she was mulling over the fact that with men outnumbering the women on the ship, she had suddenly become an object of great attention. Several male crew members and a few MACOs had already chatted her up.

It was certainly an interesting development, but she wasn't so sure that she liked it. She wanted to fall in love with someone - not hook up with someone because suddenly options were limited.

On the other hand, what better time than to look for love than in a time of crisis?

Hoshi looked down at her watch. She would run for another twenty minutes, and that would be enough. Running on these decks would get old after a few years, so maybe the captain's idea of a pool wasn't such a bad one.

Just then, she heard steps behind her. Someone was running, and overtaking her. Her practiced ear let her know that it was a man's footsteps, and that he was a MACO. Starfleet issue boots make a different sound against the deck plating. She also guessed that it was a male MACO catching up behind her.

Soon, Hoshi realized it was the head MACO, Major Hayes.

"Hello, Ensign," said Hayes.

"Hello, Major," said Hoshi.

"Nice day for a run," he said.

Hayes smiled at her and paced himself so he wouldn't pass her. He had had to quickly change into his running gear after seeing the ensign heading off for a run. Over the past week, Hayes had been seeking an opportunity to speak to her alone, and now he had to grab the opportunity. He was a smart man, and he knew that young Ensign Sato was going to have swarms of young men courting her. But he had also decided, after reviewing all the potential wives aboard the ship, that Ensign Sato would make a fine Mrs. Hayes. She was young, beautiful and brilliant, and she was charming as well. He had admired her pluck during various ordinance training exercises as well.

Hayes wasn't a man to let competition worry him, either. He was a man who, when he wanted something, figured out a way to get it.

"I had a question to ask you, ensign," he said, "Would you be willing to instruct me in the Xindi languages? I figure I'll have to start with Primate or Arboreal - I'm not quite up for Insectazoid. But I figure we're bound to run into Xindi in the next few decades, and I want to be prepared."

Hoshi smiled.

"Sure. I'd be happy to help you learn."

Major Hayes showed no hint of the triumph he was feeling. Multiple language lessons would keep her away from mooning young crewman.

"Good. No time to waste. Shall I meet you in the mess hall at 1900 hours?"

"I'll be there," said Hoshi.

With that, Major Hayes sped past her. He was way too old for awkward small talk, and he saw no reason why he shouldn't leave her wanting more.

As he pulled away, Hoshi admired his stance and the grace with which he ran. He was a little old for her, but then again she had always dated older men back on Earth. It was a thought, anyway.

****

Jon, Trip and T'Pol dined in his private mess that night, something the three of them had done countless times. Trip chatted away about the engines and the parts he had obtained at the Ikkaren colony. T'Pol talked about the feasibility of putting a swimming pool in Cargo Bay 3.

Jon stayed more quiet than usual, studying their interaction for any hint that something was going on between them. They gave no hint. He wondered if it would be polite to ask. Trip wouldn't care, he was sure. But Vulcans sure were tight lipped about their personal lives. Hell, he had always assumed they didn't have personal lives except every seven years.

"There's a betting pool about when the first child will be born," said Trip.

Jon smiled at the one.

"I hear the crew has been busy getting started on that phase of our mission," he replied.

"I bet on on 9 months from last Monday," said Trip.

T'Pol took a bite of her salad, then a sip of the wine. This was the third time Jon had seen her drink since the corridor. I suppose, he thought, that means she isn't pregnant.

"I wouldn't bet against that," said T'Pol.

Jon and Trip both looked at her.

"Meaning that several female members of the crew have inquired with Phlox about labor and delivery in space. He believes that we might need to expand sickbay to make room for a nursery."

Jon sliced a piece of bread, narrowly missing cutting his finger.

"Nine months seems like an inadequate time to prepare for the birth of a child," said T'Pol.

The two men were silent.

"The Vulcan gestational cycle lasts a full Vulcan year," said T'Pol, "Which gives the parents more adequate time to prepare for the child's education."

"I'll bet the best Vulcan schools have long waiting lists," said Archer, half-jokingly.

"Students are accepted based on their scholastic abilities," said T'Pol, "But prior to schooling, parents are responsible for teaching a child reading, math and basic scientific principles."

T'Pol hoped to keep this conversation as impersonal as possible, something she knew would be a losing battle.

"Do Vulcan babies laugh?" asked Trip, who had never seen a Vulcan baby and realized that he might someday be the father of one.

"Yes," said T'Pol, "It is considered unwise to prohibit any expression in an infant that is pre-verbal. However, by the time a child is five or six Vulcan years, we start teaching them basic meditation techniques."

Trip wondered for a moment whether a Vulcan/human child would be more Vulcan or human. Would it be necessary to have the kid start bottling his emotions in kindergarten? He hoped not.

Trip glanced up at T'Pol. She knew exactly what he was thinking. Damn, this telepathy, he thought.

"Sounds like fun," said Archer, "I can only imagine Vulcan playground games.'

"They can be quite complex and intimidating," said T'Pol.

Trip was glad that his offspring weren't going to be raised on Vulcan, and he didn't care one bit that T'Pol knew it.

_Do you think the captain knows about us? _

_If he suspects, he's hiding it well. But I do think he suspects. He saw me leave your quarters this morning. _

"Phlox believes that, if we so choose, the he could assist in the the creation of Human/Vulcan hybrid children, as well and Human/Denobulan children," said T'Pol simply.

Trip nearly choked on his wine.

"Well," said Jon, "That's good to know. For you, I mean. And him. . .but not the two of you together."

"I believe Phlox has become romantically involved with a female MACO," said T'Pol.

"Good for Phlox," said the captain, "And it makes sense. From what I know about Denobulans, they don't much care for being alone. . . .so does Phlox know if pointed ears are a dominant or recessive trait?"

The captain was teasing her, but he also thought he noticed a little bit of jealously in Trip's eyes. Yeah, they were definitely an item, thought Jon. Why he even had any doubt, after this morning, he didn't know. But he wasn't going to say anything. They would come forward in their own time. Archer couldn't help wondering if either of them suspected he knew, though.

"He believes they would be a dominant trait," replied T'Pol.

Trip smiled, very broadly. He was picturing his own children with pointed ears. The idea appealed to him. He had come to find pointed ears completely adorable.

"I'll never understand your fascination with our ears," said T'Pol, aloud but response to what Trip was thinking.

Trip was taken aback. It was possible to hide thought from her, he knew that much, but he had to work at it.

"Well, at least in your case, they are really cute," said Trip.

T'Pol raised an eyebrow.

Jon couldn't believe he'd missed the vibe between them until now. They were totally and completely involved. He felt completely left out. And a little lonely.

****

Malcolm told himself that tonight would be the night. He would find Hoshi and casually ask her to tea. Tea or perhaps movie night. Something. Anything. Whatever, the implication would be clear enough. He'd show his interest, politely as any English gentleman would.

If he knew Hoshi's habits, she should be in the mess hall by now. Malcolm inhaled deeply. It was just a date, after all. He was just asking her out on a date. If it didn't work out, well then, it didn't. But he had to try.

Malcolm strolled into the mess hall as he had done countless time, and he tried to look nonchalantly for Hoshi.

He saw her. She was in uniform, seated in the corner. There was one other person at her table. The last person Malcolm would have expected or wanted to see with Hoshi. Major Hayes.

The two were examining PADDs and Hoshi was pronouncing something clearly. It appeared to Malcolm, intelligence officer that he was, that she was teaching Hayes some alien language.

Brilliant, thought Malcolm. I should have thought of that myself.

Hoshi seemed all business, but Malcolm recognized Hayes's alpha-male body language. Hayes didn't give a damn about whatever Hoshi was saying or trying to teach him. Hayes was weaving a web and trying to get poor Hoshi to fall into his trap.

Malcolm could do nothing but pretend he didn't care what he was seeing. He grabbed some food and looked around for an empty table. Suddenly, he wanted nothing more than to be alone.

But there was Travis and his new MACO girlfriend. Travis beckoned with a smile and Malcolm approached.

Great, thought Malcolm, I get to be the third wheel. How depressing. Malcolm smiled and sat down at Travis's table. At least he had a chair that wasn't facing Hoshi and Hayes.

***

Three months later, things remained much the same on Enterprise, as the ship gradually explored the Expanse. Construction on the swimming pool/recreation area was progressing nicely, and the Ikkarens had proved to be excellent allies - providing chef with a bevy of new ingredients for the food as well as much needed parts for engineering.

And everyone aboard the ship was looking forward to the first post-corridor wedding. Travis & Jay Mckenzie weren't wasting a bit of time. It was even widely rumored that she was already pregnant. Major Hayes had agreed to give the bride away.

Since the Expanse wasn't nearly as violent as it was in Enterprise's original time, the MACOs found themselves without a tremendous lot to do. They continued their training, but Major Hayes also allowed his troops to contribute to other areas of the ship. Pool construction, living quarters realignment and even gardening. Hayes didn't think the peace would last, but he also knew that his people would go nuts if they did nothing but train for combat that would be much rarer than it had been.

Hoshi had agreed to be Travis's "Best Person" and Amanda was going to be Jay's "Best Person" - and the chef was baking a special wedding cake as well. Hoshi figured it would be the first of many to come.

She was sitting in the mess hall, alone, studying her Ikkaren. She had gotten the basics down pretty quick, but the language had dialects to spare - and the Ikkarens always appreciated it if someone recognized their specific dialect and used it.

Across the mess, she saw Trip and T'Pol eating together. She watched for any sign of affection between the two, but they appeared to be just colleagues, as they had before the Expanse and before the corridor.

But Hoshi, like everyone else on board, knew better. If you wanted to find Trip at three in the morning these days, everyone knew to ring T'Pol's quarters. They were usually there. Sometimes, she would be found in Trip's quarters. And they always attended meals together. And movie night. Yet, to her knowledge, they have never publicly acknowledged their relationship. It had to be a Vulcan thing, thought Hoshi. They were excessively private people.

Speaking of which, Malcolm strolled into the mess hall, alone as usual. Hoshi beckoned him to sit next to her. Of all the members of the crew, except maybe the captain, Hoshi had heard the fewest rumors about Malcolm in the last months. In fact, she had heard none at all.

Malcolm grabbed his food, and happily sat down next to Hoshi.

"I thought you mastered Ikkaren weeks ago," said Malcolm.

"Just the eastern dialect," said Hoshi, "Now I'm working on the northern. It's got a more lilting cadence."

"I hear you're in the wedding," said Malcolm, "That's exciting."

"I was really flattered when Travis asked me," replied Hoshi, "Do you have a date yet?"

For a moment, Malcolm hoped she was asking him.

"I'm taking Joss. .. Major Hayes. He's giving the bride away."

Malcolm tried not to look crestfallen, but she might as well have kicked him in the shins.

"You've been seeing a lot of him lately," said Malcolm.

"It's going to be a long journey," said Hoshi, "It's nice to have company."

*****

T'Pol and Jon had spent hours looking over reports and logs. During the first part of the Xindi mission, it had been stressful but none of the logs were boring. Now, it was just tedious and more tedious reports about nothing interesting. Even the Ikkarens, with all their rich cultural traditions, were fully accustomed to meeting other species and all of their contacts had passed without incident.

One thing that had interested Jon over the past few hours was the ring T'Pol was wearing around her left ring finger. It appeared to be platinum, with tiny Vulcan lettering around it and a stone that turned from purple to blue as T'Pol moved her hands.

Jon was positively sick of pretending the romance between his two senior officers didn't exist - no matter what her Vulcan sensibilities. If she was going to sport what appeared to be an engagement ring, she was going to have to field a few inquiries.

"That's a beautiful ring," said Jon, casually, "I assume it is new."

T'Pol looked up. So, he had finally decided to ask.

"It was a gift from Commander Tucker," she said, "He purchased from an Ikkaren jeweler some weeks ago. The man did an excellent job with Vulcan script."

Jon looked at her face. No expression. She had to know what the ring meant. Didn't Vulcans have wedding rings? Engagement rings? He didn't know.

"Vulcan is a complex language. . .the pronunciations are difficult," said T'Pol.

Jon was too impatient to let her get where she was going.

"You do realize that's an engagement ring, don't you?" asked Jon.

"Yes," said T'Pol.

"But you and Trip haven't even publicly said you are together. . ."

"That is unnecessary. It is my understanding that the whole ship already knows. Phlox brings it up every time I go to sickbay."

Jon thought for a moment about how to counteract that argument. It was true that the whole ship already knew. He may have been the last to know but he knew. Why was it so necessary that they make an announcement?

"So, you and Trip. . . you're going to be married."

"Eventually, yes," said T'Pol, "Trip doesn't want to 'steal Travis's thunder' with a big announcement just yet. Plus it will take him weeks to learn the Vulcan vows," said T'Pol.

"By the way," she continued, " The ceremony is complex. For you to perform it in Vulcan, you will need to begin studying. Would you be willing to do so? The Universal Translator would take some of more nuanced meaning out of it."

Jon sat back in his chair. He knew weddings were going to be a big part of his life from now on, but he hadn't expected to perform one in Vulcan.

"Trip wants the ceremony in Vulcan. He believes it to be a gesture of acceptance of my culture."

"That's very romantic."

T'Pol paused. Romance was something of an alien concept to her, but she was learning. And leaning to appreciate Trip's flare for it.

"Yes," she said.

"We'll," said Jon, "I'm happy for you two. Congratulations."

Jon briefly thought to broach the subject of a Vulcan/human child. It would be a good asset to the ship - but now wasn't the time. Now was the time to just be happy that people were getting on with their lives.

"Thank you," said T'Pol. "Is there anything else?"

"No," said Jon.

With that T'Pol slipped back to the bridge to finish her shift.

****

Later that evening, Jay McKenzie approached T'Pol in the hallway. The Vulcan had barely spoken five words to the young woman, and she didn't know what she could possibly want.

"Excuse me, Commander," said Jay, "But Travis asked me to ask you for a favor."

T'Pol blinked.

"Well, you see, there's a human tradition. A bride is supposed to wear something something old, something new, something borrowed and something blue. I've got a new pair of shoes from the Ikkaren colony, and I've got a string of pearls that once belonged to my grandmother. But I don't have a veil - and I've seen you wear this really beautiful shimmering blue scarf sometimes - and you can say no if you want to - but Travis thought it would not only make a great veil, it would be something borrowed and something blue. You'd get it back right after the wedding, I promise."

T'Pol thought for just a moment. She believed she knew the scarf to which the young MACO was referring. It was aesthetically striking.

"I'd be happy to let you - borrow the scarf," said T'Pol.

Jay looked down at T'Pol's ring finger.

"That's a gorgeous rock, Commander," she said, "May I see?"

T'Pol raised her hand. Jay gasped aloud.

"What a beautiful stone," she exclaimed. She held up her own ring finger, on which she was wearing a diamond ring. T'Pol recognized the traditional human style.

"It was Travis's grandmother's ring," she said, "Can you believe he'd been carrying it with him ever since she died - just waiting for the right girl to come along. . . Did Commander Tucker have that one made for you? It's just amazing...very you."

T'Pol stared at the young woman. She had no clue how to respond.

"Yes, Commander Tucker obtained it at an Ikkaren settlement."

"Well, it's really, really terrific. Congratulations by the way. And when it's your turn to be the bride - you can borrow anything of mine you need. . .oh, and Amanda is throwing me a soiree the night before the wedding. We're making jello shots. . .you're more than welcome to come."

T'Pol blinked. She had no idea what a jello shot was.

"We'll, I'd best be going. Later," said Jay as she slipped down the corridor.

T'Pol knew for certain she wouldn't be attending that party, though she found herself slightly touched that the young woman had invited her.


	2. Chapter 2

E2: Implications, Part 2

_Summary: Trip & T'Pol get married and honeymoon in Cargo Bay 3. Archer and Reed's romantic prospects start to look up after a rescue mission. Ikkaren politics prove volatile. Reed has more bad luck, but this time he enjoys his bad luck - at least for awhile. You know things are going to go from bad to tragic. Be prepared for full tilt melodrama._

_Author's Note: As everybody knows, writing original love interests for established characters is a thankless task. Any feedback would be welcome. _

Vulcans had a flare for the dramatic, and so it wasn't surprising to Trip how dramatic and solemn the Vulcan wedding ceremony was. And small. Unlike the half a dozen or so weddings that had occurred on the ship since the corridor, his and T'Pol's wouldn't devolve into a hedonistic reception. There wouldn't be a reception at all. After the ceremony, in which he only flubbed one line and during which he and the captain wore some approximation of Vulcan robes - he and T'Pol were supposed to be alone together. The only guests had been Phlox, Hoshi, Travis and Malcolm.

Truth be told, that was fine with Trip. He had had enough of hangovers, and the enthusiastic partying of the younger crew members reminded him that he wasn't as young as he once was.

No, his commitment to T'Pol was serious. And the long ritual that had officially joined them was appropriate.

He glanced over at his new wife. She wore layers of shimmering green and blue robes and a scarf around her head. Her face was relaxed, peaceful - and he knew there were few emotions at the surface. She had spent three days meditating in her quarters before the ceremony, refusing to see even him, and now even with their bond he barely knew what she was thinking.

He was escorting her down to Cargo Bay 3, where they would spend the next week, ostensibly alone. The pool had been installed, and for this occasion Trip had created a beach shoreline at the edge - complete with palm tree. A relatively large cabana had also been built, with a table and chairs and couch. There was also a full sized bed - piled high with pillows - would be where they would sleep. And, not sleep.

It seemed fair. He had agreed to a Vulcan wedding. She had agreed to a human honeymoon.

It seemed bizarre to Trip that Vulcans had no concept of a wedding night and often waited years, to the onset of Pon Farr, to consummate a marriage. He thanked his lucky stars that T'Pol was adjusting nicely to human mating cycles. She even had started to enjoy them.

When they arrived at the cargo bay, Trip shut the door behind them. Only chef would be coming by with meals twice a day. Otherwise, they were on their own for a week.

He was also relieved that there were no signs of practical jokes from the crew. He had explained to several members of the engineering crew - and to the captain - that Vulcans were incapable of appreciating wedding night humor and that T'Pol would be appalled at anything that referenced their impeding "sexual relations." It seemed everyone got the message.

What was weird, though, was the Trip had come to understand that his wife had a very dry sense of humor. While she never laughed or smiled, she could tease him or the captain without raising one of her delightful Vulcan eyebrows. And since they had formed this telepathic bond, he now knew how often she was amused by jokes or movies or even the oddness she perceived in human behavior.

But she had not spoken a word since the ceremony. And the only thing as far as emotion he sensed from her was serenity - peace. Which, he supposed was a good thing.

And it was. All the traumas she had suffered in recent years had seemed to slip away once she became trapped in the corridor. The heavy weight of Vulcan tradition had been lifted, and her shortcomings no longer seemed to matter. Once she stopped gauging her emotional control by what was possible for most Vulcans and started balancing logic with her own newfound emotions, everything made sense. She was no longer ashamed of what she felt for Trip. She looked forward to feeling it.

"Have you been swimming since this was installed?" she asked. She walked toward the edge of the water.

"Not yet," he said, "You might want to take off those shoes, though."

T'Pol was wearing what appeared to be highly illogical high-heeled shoes. The flare for the dramatic had clearly won out over logic. Although, they did nicely accentuate her legs.

"Do Vulcans learn how to swim as children?"

"Yes, it is considered an important survival skill as well as good exercise," she replied.

T'Pol took off her shoes, and then began to undress. The lights in the cargo bay were low, but he could see her perfectly formed silhouette as she waded into the water.

"Is it warm?" he asked.

"It is comfortable," she said as she disappeared under the water.

Trip didn't need an invitation. He stripped himself of his own clothes and soon followed after her.

Damn, she's and excellent swimmer. He'd been swimming since before he could walk, but he couldn't see anything wrong with her stroke. It was perfect, disciplined and precise. How odd, he thought, the people who had evolved on different planets but with similar physiology would develop near identical swimming techniques. Or maybe she just took some lessons on Earth.

He approached her in the water, and she swam to meet him. He took her into his arms and kissed her deeply. The first time he had done so since they were married. He was happy that she kissed him back - something she still didn't always do.

Trip's feet found the bottom of the pool, so he could lift her into his arms and kiss deeper and longer.

She continued to kiss him, but while she did she slipped her hand into his and Trip found the bond energy come swirling back. He was afraid he might drown. No wonder Vulcans suppressed their emotions, he thought. The passion boiling up from her threatened to engulf his mind, destroy any reason or logic. He was overwhelmed at the sheer danger of it, but he also couldn't imagine pulling away.

****

"It was a beautiful ceremony," said Hoshi, who had run into Malcolm at breakfast, "Really profound. I love how seriously Vulcans take their rituals. And Trip did amazing. He seemed so happy to be there. . .it was really romantic," she continued, "And you must have noticed how amazing T'Pol looked. I've always envied her clothes - and just when you think she couldn't have anything else in that tiny closet of hers - she pulls out that number. I don't know what makes Vulcan silkworms so talented, but I wish I had done some more shopping the last time I was on Vulcan."

"I think that was Tholian silk," said Malcolm, "It's very rare."

Malcolm sighed and remembered just how stunning T'Pol had looked. He was happy for his friends, and more than a little bit envious. To his irritation, he also spied what appeared to be a hickey on Hoshi's neck. Clearly, the bride and groom were not the only ones who got laid the night before. Hoshi also had that unmistakable - glow about her.

"I hope when I get married, my honeymoon will be some place more interesting," said Malcolm.

"For your sake, Malcolm," said Hoshi, "I hope that when you get married you'll be so happy that you won't care where you're honeymoon is," said Hoshi.

"Touche," said Malcolm.

Malcolm thought of teasing Hoshi about her relationship with Hayes, but he was afraid it would come out bitter rather than light-hearted. That's probably because he was bitter. With the men outnumbering the women two to one, it seemed that all of the women were taken. Malcolm's only option seemed to be to wait around until someone broke up with someone. Rebound relationships were at least something.

"Anything interesting come through the comm, lately," asked Malcolm, "I can't believe we won't be at another habitable planet for at least two weeks."

"Well, at least it gives our honeymooners a chance to be alone for a week," said Hoshi.

Suddenly, the captain's voice came over the comm, summoning Hoshi and Malcolm to the bridge.

"We're not on vacation," sighed Malcolm.

"But at least something - anything has happened," said Hoshi.

When they arrived on the bridge, the captain was in his chair. An Ikkaren freighter appeared on the viewscreen. It appeared to have some damage.

"There are life signs," said the Captain, "But the ship appears to be disabled. There's been no distress call."

"It could be a trap," said Malcolm, remembering their early experiences in the Expanse and elsewhere.

"It could be," said Jon, "But I don't want to abandon anyone that needs are help out of an over abundance of caution. You and I will take a shuttlepod and see if we can do anything. Hoshi, try hailing them again."

Nothing.

"Hoshi, you have the bridge, Malcolm your with me."

Malcolm felt excitement bubble up in him. It had been months since anything this interesting had happened. He could finally stop feeling sorry for himself and start getting back to what he was good at - away missions on strange and possibly dangerous ships.

****

Within two hours, Jon and Malcolm had boarded the Ikkaren transport. It didn't long for them both to realize why the ship's passengers and crew were incapacitated. The oxygen level in the atmosphere was remarkably high, too high for a human or an Ikkaren to remain conscious but not enough to kill anyone.

"All in all," said Malcolm, "There are worse things to happen to your life support systems."

The Captain nodded in his EV helmet.

"We need to find the controls and see if we can repair them. We should have brought an engineer," said the Captain, who admitted to himself that he didn't want to bring anyone else but Trip on an adventure like this one. Malcolm remained a great second choice.

"I think they will be this way,' said Malcolm as they strolled down the hallway. The corridor appeared empty, until they reached the end. An Ikkaren woman lay on the ground in front of a control panel. Her arm was reaching up toward the controls.

"I'm guessing this is the life support system," said Jon, who suddenly was wishing Hoshi was there as well.

But it didn't matter much. Jon had been learning a bit of Ikkaren here and there over the preceding months, enough to recognize the character for "RESET" on the panel. He hoped it would be that easy.

He pressed the button and heard a hissing noise.

Malcolm examined his readings.

"The atmosphere is returning to normal," he said.

With that, he reached down and repositioned the young Ikkaren woman's body so that she wouldn't be so awkward when she awakened. As he did so, he couldn't help noticing how - pretty the woman was. She was humanoid, with skin tones very similar to Earth natives. But, she had a delicate ridge starting at her forehead and down to the tip of her nose. She had light, not blond, but almost white hair and long, white eyelashes. She wore a green dress, similar in style to the ones Malcolm had seen other Ikkaren women wear. This appeared to be a civilian ship.

Meanwhile, Jon took off his helmet and took a deep breath.

"The air is fine now," he said.

The young woman's eyes began to open. Malcolm took his helmet off and knelt down next to her.

Her eyes opened. Her irises were a pale yellow. Almost the color of sunshine, thought Malcolm.

The woman sat up started. And screamed a high pitched, short scream.

"Don't be afraid," said Malcolm hoping the UT had kicked in, "We came to help, nothing more. You're life support systems had got out of whack."

The woman looked up at Jon and then back at Malcolm, then up to the control panel.

"I know," she said, "I was trying to reach the control when I blacked out. My goodness, I'm glad you came along. How long have we been asleep?"

Jon reached down a hand and pulled the woman to her feet.

"I'm Captain Archer of the Starship Enterprise," he said, smiling.

"I'm Lesilia, and my sister is the captain of this transport," she said, "No doubt she's found herself awake on the bridge. Do you know how long we've been asleep?"

"No," said Jon, "But from the looks of it, not very long. There's little to no debris accumulation in the atmosphere. You probably weren't out for longer than a day," he said.

The woman looked at the Captain, then back at Malcolm.

"Where exactly are you two from?" she said.

"Earth," said Malcolm, "It's a long way from here."

In more ways than one, thought Malcolm, remembering that he would never go home.

"Our species is called human," he said.

"You must be a long way from home," said Lesilia, "Because I've spent a long time traveling around this part of space, and you two gentleman are the first humans I've ever heard of - let alone met."

"It's a long story," said the captain.

Malcolm couldn't help but notice a lilt in the captain's speech, on that only surfaced when he was in close proximity of an attractive woman.

"Well," said Lesilia, "I'm sure my sister will want to thank you both in person. The bridge is just this way."

They walked down the corridor and though a pair of ornate doors only a small bridge. To Malcolm's surprise a woman who looked nearly identical to Lesilia stood there. Nearly, but not entirely identical. Her hair was a kind translucent blue/black and her eyes were green. But otherwise, she looked identical to her sister. She even wore the exact same dress but in yellow rather than green.

"What the hell happened?" asked Essilia, the captain. "I assume you didn't reach the reset button in time."

Lesilia folded her arms.

"Well, I'm sorry I wasn't able to withstand the change in atmosphere as long as you needed me to in order to fix your ship," said the yellow-eyed sister, "But luckily these gentleman came to our rescue."

Essilia began to examine a few of her consoles.

"Everyone's life signs are returning to normal," she said. Her voice indicated great relief.

"Thank you, whoever you are," she said.

"Not at all," said the Captain, "Pleasure to be of service, ma'am."

****

Trip awoke in the sumptuous comfort of the honeymoon suite in cargo bay three. He blinked his eyes open but knew better than to try and sit up. He felt a strange mix of hallucinatory intoxication and clarity, and he wondered if the previous night had been a dream. He turned his head and saw his wife looking at him.

Her eyes met his, and she smiled. The most beautiful smile. . .

Trip sat up, in shock. This was T'Pol, but it wasn't. He knew it was her. The bond was there, he could feel it.

She lifted her hand up and brushed his face.

"Shhhh. . .," she said sleepily, "I'm fine. It's just my serotonin levels won't return to normal for another 24 hours."

Trip lay back down.

"So," he said, "I only get to see you smile like that once every seven years."

"Yes," she said.

"Completely worth the wait," he said.

Then, she laughed. It was a sweet, school girlish laugh. Through their bond, he knew she hadn't done that she was a child.

Truth be told, as Trip replayed their wedding night in his head, he was glad that her mating cycle would only come around once every seven years. He didn't think his heart could take that level of intensity for a sustained period of time. No wonder Vulcans could only mate every seven years. If they did it more often, it would kill them.

No, he would be content to return to their more light-hearted, more human sex life.

_But we still have another day._

Trip grinned and his wife and pulled her back into his arms.

****

By lunch, Malcolm, Jon, Essilia and Lesilia were dining in the captain's mess aboard Enterprise. Initially, Essilia had turned Jon's invitation down, but her sister had convinced her that, after weeks aboard their small transport, they could use a change of scenery.

Essilia told them that while she was the transport's captain, her sister was primarily a passenger. She gripped her wine glass delicately by the stem, using her long fingers. Jon had noticed that Ikkaren women seemed vain about their hands, and always kept their nails perfect.

"I teach art history at a university on Ikkaria," said Lesilia, "But I'm on winter break. Four months to explore all the goings on in the scattered artists colonies."

"She's being modest," said Essilia, "She teaches at the finest of all the Universities on our home world. Less than one percent of the population even qualifies to apply to study there."

Malcolm was impressed. This was an accomplished young woman sitting next to him. Beautiful and smart, she was.

"She's definitely the brainy one," said Essilia, "Whereas I went to flight school and wound up the transport fleet. I'm the one with the sense of adventure."

Malcolm thought he saw a look pass between the sisters, and he made a mental note. Something passed beneath the surface. It was probably nothing, as sibling relationships were often complex.

"I hope you don't mind me remarking," said Malcolm, "But the two of you look remarkably alike."

The sisters smiled at each other.

"Of course," said Essilia, "We're identical twins."

Jon sipped a bit of Ikkaren wine.

"But you're coloring, it's different. Human identical twins are well, more identical."

Lesilia looked puzzled.

"So human pigmentation develops in the womb? Ikkarens are born without any pigmentation. Over the first months of life, it develops based on a number of environmental factors. We were raised together, but I think my sister's crib was nearer to the window. Which explains a whole lot, not just her hair and eyes."

"Human hair color can change over the course of a lifetime," said Malcolm, "And eye color can change shortly after birth, but most everything is determined by genes."

Malcolm offered the sisters more wine and poured himself a glass. He hoped the captain wouldn't mind. Suddenly, it felt very much like they were on a double date rather than on duty.

Malcolm looked at the two sisters. Both were beautiful, but he knew the captain had a thing for brunettes. And he would happily take the blond. White-blond. What amazing eyes, he thought. What amazingly delicate _fingers_.

Essilia took a gulp of her wine and leaned over the table. Jon detected a small hint of mean-spiritedness when she spoke.

"So, Lesilia, Thoren is going to be wondering where you are," she said, "Did my sister tell you that she was recently married?"

Malcolm felt like he'd been kicked in the stomach. It wasn't disappointment, it was the torture of going from giddy to despair in less than a second.

"Well," said Jon, "Congratulations. We've had a spate of weddings here aboard the Enterprise. We had one last night. On human vessels its customary for the captain to perform the ceremony. So I've been busy," he said.

Lesilia laughed out loud at that.

"You could add that to your many duties, sis" she said, "On Ikkaren ships, it's the chef that performs the weddings. . . food is a central part of our culture, and there's a three course meal that's integrated into the ceremony," said Lesilia, "I'm still full from my wedding and it was six weeks ago."

Malcolm sighed deeply. All of the good ones were taken.

"You should have brought your husband," said Jon.

"He's busy writing a speech," said Lesilia, "He'll be delivering it to graduates of the military academy when we reach Ikkaria. He's giving the commencement address."

Reed felt kicked again. Of course she'd be married to a celebrity of some kind. A military hero. Reed felt inadequacy drip from his pores.

"Thoren led the last campaign against the Grey Guard rebels on Ikkaria. They are totalitarians who believe that Ikkarian expansion into so many colonies endangers the purity of our culture. They also believe we should build a larger military. We do have a small guard, but for centuries, Ikkarians security has come from favorable and neutral trade relations with all our neighbors, rather than large military might. In fact, no ship in our fleet is as large and powerful as yours captain. It's not that we don't have the capacity or technology to build them, we just prefer swift, sleek transports and freighters."

Lesilia shook her head.

"I've spent my life studying how our artists are striking out across the colonies and developing their own movements and styles. They are taking Ikkarian culture to new and different places, being influenced by all different species. That idea that it threatens classical Ikkaren culture is patently absurd."

Essilia gently put her wine glass down.

"During the last insurgency, my sister was taken hostage. She was forced to make a statement denouncing her life's work before she was released. Thoren, who was a childhood friend of ours, negotiated her release. He believes, and I believe, that their original intent was to kill her."

Jon took a large drink of water. He had met plenty of religious fanatics during his exploration, but this was the first time he had ever encountered cultural fanatics. Even at its most civilized, the Expanse was a dangerous place.

"Well," said Malcolm, "I'm glad to see you are all right. And that no permanent harm has come you."

Essilia laughed.

"Well," said Essilia, "We can laugh about it now, but it was terrifying. It did benefit Thoren in one way, though. How many times had you turned down his proposal? Three? Maybe four? Five if you count when we were on the playground. It took him saving your life to realize your feelings."

Lesilia shrugged.

How romantic, thought Malcolm. Childhood sweethearts united by a dramatic rescue. It was enough to make his stomach turn.

Jon turned to Essilia. "What about you? Are you married?"

It's pretty obvious she isn't, captain, thought Malcolm. It would figure that the brunette would be the single one.

"Free as a bird," said Essilia, "Not many Ikkaren men are willing to play first mate to a transport captain. For all the strides we've made, our men still like to be in the captain's chair. In fact, most every Ikkaren male I know would be jealous of the size of your ship."

Malcolm really thought he was going to vomit in his mouth. At that moment, Lesilia caught his eyes with hers. Somehow, Malcolm knew she was thinking the same thing.

"So," said Jon, "How about that ship's tour?"

He got up and extended an arm to the dark-haired Ikkaren. She graciously accepted.

"If you don't mind, Captain," said Lesilia, "I was wondering if you would allow Malcolm to return me to our ship. I'm sure everyone aboard is still a little shook up over our recent ordeal - and I've also got some work I need to finish."

"Not if Malcolm doesn't mind," said Jon as he let Essilia out of his mess.

Once they were out of earshot, Lesilia turned to Malcolm.

"My sister has always been a little bit, transparent," she said, "But I dare say I haven't seen her that interested in a man in years. She's usually too busy. . ."

"Shall I escort you to the shuttlepod?"

Lesilia lifted her arm up.

"Thank you, Malcolm," she said, "And may I again thank you and your captain and crew for stopping and helping us. Not many species around this part of space would do that. It speaks well of all of humanity."

Malcolm took her arm and together they walked toward the launch bay.

****

Travis and Hoshi were the only two senior staff members on the bridge when they noticed a ship appear, almost out of nowhere. It was bigger than the Ikkaren transport but much smaller than Enterprise.

Hoshi hailed them, but got no response. She tried again, no response.

The vessel simply hovered over the Ikkaren transport, then it jumped to warp.

"Oh my god," said Hoshi, "It seems like half the people on board that transport were beamed over to that ship."

Hoshi contacted the captain and told him what she saw.

Jon looked at Essilia.

"Were you expecting that?"

"No," she said, "But the strange way our life support systems broke just started to make sense. I'll bet my third finger we didn't meet with an accident yesterday, it was sabotage. And I'm guessing again - educatedly so - that the Grey Guard was behind this. We've been hearing rumors for months that they were planning something big."

Jon hailed Malcolm and told him to wait with the pod. He and Essilia were heading back to the ship.

Soon enough, when the four of them arrived on Essilia's ship, they were met by a young steward. He seemed frantic.

"Thoren and all his men were transported out of here," he said, "Just like that."

All the color drained from Lesilia face. She didn't quite faint, but Malcolm had to grab her to prevent her from keeling over.

"I'll wager this isn't an isolated event," said Essilia, "Thoren had information that indicated the Greys were planning a coup. If so, it would make sense that they would neutralize any potential counter insurgents. Thoren . . and to a lesser extent myself would make great targets. I'm sorry Lesilia. I'm assuming he didn't tell you about the intelligence we got two months ago. . ."

Lesilia stood up straight. She shot her sister a venomous look.

"He told me. But he also told me that it was nothing to worry about. I didn't believe him, of course."

Essilia strode over to a console and started tapping at it. Works in the Ikkaren language appeared on the screen.

"There's been a coup. Worse still, it's successful. The Grey Guard has control of the capital and all the space ports and the orbital beacons. Marshall Law has been declared."

Lesilia made her way to a stool and sat down. She closed her eyes. Malcolm suddenly wished he could have been in a position to help her husband. Hell, at the moment, he would have traded places with her husband if he could have.

"Don't worry," said Essilia, "They are probably not dead. They're no good as bargaining chips if they're dead. The Greys will probably just throw them in prison. Jonathan. . .may I recommend that you delay your visit to Ikkaria. Now may not be the best time. It looks like your research trip has been extended, sis."

Jon looked around at the small transport. He guessed their supplied were limited.

"How many people do you have on board?" asked Jon.

Jon suspected that the sisters, and their crew, may be in danger. He also figured that, like his own crew, they had suddenly become refugees.

"Besides my sister and I?" said Essilia, "Four."

"I think this little ship could fit in our launch bay," said Jon. "Why don't you all hide out on Enterprise until you can figure out what to do? If your history is anything like Earth's, there's a good chance this coup will be followed by another one."

Before he realized what had happened, Malcolm was helping Essilia park her ship in their launch bay. Soon after that, he helped find quarters for the sisters and their friends. Malcolm thought that, while the sisters situation was difficult, it was somewhat fortuitous for Enterprise. Their knowledge was going to come in handy.

****

Several days later, Leslia sat on one of Phlox's biobed and held out her hands.

"Your species truly has the most amazing phalanges I've ever seen in sentient humanoids. So very delicate. Do you break them often?"

"Not if I can help it," said Lesilia, as she waved her fingers for the doctor, "And might I say your phalanges are quite remarkable in their own right."

Malcolm walked into sickbay.

"What can I do for you, lieutenant? Are you ill?"

"No," said Malcolm, "But I heard one of our passengers was here and I wanted to check on her."

Lesilia jumped off the bio bed and onto the floor. Her feet made the tiniest of clicking noises when she hit the floor.

"I'm fine," she said "But Phlox had never examined an Ikkaren close up before. Since I suddenly have all the time in the world, I thought I'd make myself useful to him."

"Very generous of you," replied Malcolm.

"My sister knows every corner of this section of space like it was the back of her fingers," she said, "But unless you all want lessons in Ikkaren contemporary art, I'm afraid I'm going to be dead weight around here."

"Nonsense," said Phlox, "I'm sure you'll be very useful. Just your company will be a pleasure. In fact, I would like to invite you to dine with my companion Amanda and myself. I'm sure she would love to meet you. We're expecting our first child."

Malcolm started to do some math in his head. Amanda. Jay McKenzie. Crewman Decker. Within a few months, there would be three children aboard the ship.

"Well," said Lesilia, "I must say I'm impressed. If I had been in your circumstances. . .well, I guess we all have that in common now. We're all refugees."

Before he knew what he was doing, Malcolm reached out his hand and placed it on top of hers.

"The Captain says these Grey Guards want nothing to do with the outer colonies. You could easily find a new home at any one of them. . ."

Malcolm didn't want to bring up her missing husband. The one he was suddenly becoming sort of kind of glad was missing. He couldn't help himself.

"So, would you care to join me in the mess for lunch?' said Malcolm. He told himself there was nothing sinister or inappropriate about lunch. He had lunch with Hoshi all the time. He'd had lunch with T'Pol three days before her wedding to his best friend. Nothing at all was inappropriate about lunch.

"I'd be happy to, and yes Phlox, I'd be honored to dine with you and your companion anytime."

Malcolm nodded formally, "Doctor."

"So, are your friends going to be emerging from their wedding isolation soon? I hear it will be just a few days from now."

Malcolm nodded.

"Some honeymoon, eh, in a converted cargo bay," he said.

Lesilia smiled.

"Oh, I don't know. I think it's romantic. After all, it's not where you go, it's who you are with. My husband agreed to come with me to an out colony so I could research visionary painters. It was a lovely gesture."

At that moment, Malcolm felt truly sorry for her loss.

"Again," he said, "I'm so sorry about your husband."

Tears welled up in her eyes. So, Malcolm thought, Ikkarens cry much like humans do.

"Me too," she said, "He doesn't deserve whatever is happening to him. If he is still alive. . "

Malcolm too her hand in his.

"You must love him very much."

He expected an immediate response. A nod. Some kind of affirmation. But she was still.

"Everyone loves Thoren," she said, "He was a hero. He _is_ a hero."

Something didn't quite sit well with Malcolm. But he brushed it off as a glitch in the universal translator.

******

Jay and Travis ate breakfast in the mess hall with Hoshi. To Jay's relief, Hoshi didn't bring her rumored significant other, Major Hayes. Jay liked him well enough, but she wasn't in the mood to eat with her commanding officer. It was still hard to keep food down, and she didn't need any more tension. Still, she couldn't resist sticking her nose in just little bit.

"So, how are things with you and the Major," she asked.

Hoshi was used to this question by now. Butting in was now the ship's primary entertainment.

"Going well," she said, "Of course, we're hardly moving as fast as you two. Or should I say you three? Have you felt any kicks yet?"

"Some fluttering," said Jay, "But I think she'll be a big kid. Her dad and I are both tall."

Hoshi noticed that the once caffeine-addicted Jay drank only tea.

"I've heard the Captain is spending lots of time with the transport captain. She's the one with the dark hair," said Travis.

"They've been sticking together like glue," said Hoshi, "I think its kind of sweet. They have the same basic job - and she's really nice. I haven't talked to her as much as her sister. Probably because she is always with the Captain."

Travis leaned forward and grinned.

"Crewman Richards is responsible for cleaning my quarters. He said that the dark-haired Ikkaren hasn't been in her own quarters very much. She didn't sleep there last night."

"Now, now," said Hoshi, who couldn't help thinking it was unfair that women got flack for being gossipy. The men on this ship were just as good at it.

"But the other one, the light-haired one," said Jay, "She's been hanging around with Malcolm. I saw them in the turbo lift together. They looked friendly."

"Except that she's the married one," said Hoshi, "Recently married . ."

Travis shook his head.

"Ouch. Double ouch. She's awfully pretty. . . not as pretty as you," said Travis as he winked at his wife, "But Malcolm does strike me as the kind of guy who would go for the unattainable."

"Well," said Hoshi, "She'd better not break Malcolm's heart or she'll have to answer to me. . ."

****

Jon woke up in his quarters and turned over to find Porthos was staring at him. Great, he thought. Last night must have been a dream or a hallucination. Then, he heard the shower was on. He sat up and admired Essilia's silhouette in his shower. Ikkarens were awfully - willow-y.

She noticed he was a awake and turned off the water.

"Marvelous invention. A shower of water!" she exclaimed, "We only take baths. I can't believe no one ever thought of this. Some of the spas on Ikkaria have something like this - with jets of water coming up from the floor - but it's considered a luxury."

She emerged from the shower, totally naked. Ikkarens weren't shy, thought Jon. Or maybe it was just that this Ikkaren wasn't shy.

"Good morning," he said.

She dried herself off with a towel and came forward and kissed Jon on the lips. It wasn't too light or too hard, thought Jon. No, it was just right. She also patted Porthos on the head.

"I'm thinking of taking your advice and taking Enterprise to one of the Northern colonies," said Jon, "And we'd be happy to ferry any more stray refugees we find along the way."

Essilia sat on the edge of the bed.

"Don't offer to do it for free," said Essilia, "As generous as your species is, that won't endear you to anyone. And it will look to the Greys like are taking sides. But if you accept payment - well, then, no Ikkaren will quibble with that. Not even the Greys. Besides, I'll wager you'll need all the supplies you can get."

Jon smiled at her. It was going to be useful to have a local guide, at least for awhile. He didn't venture to hope that Essilia would stay on Enterprise permanently, but he bet that she would stay until the political situation on her home world sorted itself. For her sake, he hoped the situation would end soon - for his sake, he hoped it would be prolonged.

"Care to join me for breakfast?" asked Jon, "One of the perks of the captaincy, breakfast in private."

"Of course," said Essilia, "I'm amazing at the amount of options you humans have for breakfast. Food is important to Ikkarens, but we would never dream of eating anything sweet before the afternoon."

The two both got up, got dressed and headed off to the captain's mess.

***

On the last day of her honeymoon, T'Pol opened her eyes. Since the pon farr had subsided, she had meditated every night and felt her emotional control return to the levels it had been in the weeks before the wedding. It was a blessed relief to feel normalcy returning.

"Last day," said Trip, who had noticed she was awake.

"I'll be happy to return to my regular duties," said T'Pol, "As I suppose you will. The engines will benefit from your return, I am sure."

Trip got up and poured himself some coffee. While he was at it, he made tea for her.

"I suppose if anything really interesting had happened, we would have heard about it. I'm guessing it was nothing but smooth sailing while we were gone."

T'Pol stretched and pulled the covers around her body.

"I believe I'll go for one more swim before we return. I am glad the captain had this pool installed."

Trip thought of asking her how she was feeling, just to make conversation. But he didn't need to ask he already knew she was fine. Even happy in her Vulcan way.

"I think he's been dreaming of that pool since we first left space dock. . .what was it, almost three years ago?"

Trip shook his head. Even though it hadn't technically happened yet, it seemed like a lifetime ago. He thought of how little he had cared for Vulcans back then. And how he had thought that having Malcolm and a compliment of weapons aboard was just a precaution. How naive he had been. He certainly wouldn't, couldn't have thought that he would wind up married to the stuck up Vulcan who had irritated him so completely on their first mission.

He watched T'Pol tip toe to the water and wade into the pool. She was breathtaking, and he felt very lucky.

Meanwhile, T'Pol thought of the doctor's belief that she would be most likely to conceive a child during her pon farr. Thus far, she hadn't felt any changes in her body, but it was quite early. She would know soon enough.

The child would only be half Vulcan, she thought. And only half human. Would he or she be able to forge an identity aboard the ship? Would the other children accept a not fully human playmate? Would the child need to embrace logic, or would his or her human side temper his emotions?

T'Pol thought that had they not been thrown back in time, she never would have embarked on such a dangerous endeavor. But it was illogical to think that way, as she had already moved forward. And Trip would be a good father. He understood her better than any human ever had - and no doubt he would understand the child as well.

Trip thought of joining T'Pol in the pool, but he didn't. He was enjoying watching her swim and feeling the cadences of her thoughts trickle through his head. This telepathy stuff was going to make life interesting, he thought. And he would never forget her birthday or their anniversary.

****

Malcolm knocked on the door of Leslia's quarters. He was going to take her to lunch in the mess hall. They had dined together a few times already, but the hadn't done so the previous day. And had only had breakfast the day before that. No, it was all feeling very friendly - and nothing more than that.

Suddenly, the deck plating bubbled up beneath Malcolm's feet. He was thrown back into the far wall. Lesilia opened the door and reached out to pull Malcolm into her quarters, away from the metal bubbling that was so dangerous.

The Captain's voice came over the loud speaker.

"It looks like we've hit a big wave of anomalies. Everyone should stay put where they are unless they are deemed essential. Sit down and sit tight. We should be through this in a few hours."

Malcolm sat on the floor of Lesilia's quarters, and she sat on the edge of her bed. Malcolm noticed she had even hung a small Ikkaren painting on the wall. That was quick. But then again, she was an art historian. She must have carried things like that with her.

"Looks like your stuck here. ..for awhile," said Lesila.

"Looks that way," said Malcolm.

"Are you comfortable on the chair, or would you rather get up?"

She gestured to a chair that was in the corner. It was a tight fit. She hadn't exactly been given premium quarters. Malcolm slowly pulled himself up and into the chair. Outside, he heard the sounds of metal clanging. Hopefully, everyone had secured themselves.

Lesilia lay down on her bed, facing Malcolm.

"So, do you know any card games?" said Malcom.

She stared blankly.

"You don't have card games in your culture?" said Malcolm,

"No," she said, "We have games, though."

Then, there was silence. Just an eerie, awkward silence with the banging and echoing of the anomaly in the background. Malcolm wanted to say something, but he couldn't think of something to say that wasn't awkward or too inquisitive. Lesilia also wanted to say something, but she didn't want to offer too much of herself to this stranger - a man of a race she knew nothing about - even though her instincts told her to trust him.

Finally, after what seemed like an hour, she spoke.

"So, your accent is slightly different from the rest of the crew. I assume your from a different region than the rest. . ."

"I'm British," said Malcolm, "I'm from a small island near one of the larger continents. And I'll have you know that the language that we all speak - Earth's dominant language -originated on that island."

With that, Malcolm told Lesila all about the history of England and Briton. How that small island that had been invaded over and over again and then eventually conquered a quarter of the planet. He didn't shy away from the gory details or how he was both proud of his countries many accomplishments and ashamed of its atrocities.

"No matter what the planet," said Lesilia, "The perils and pleasures of empire remain the same."

She told him about Ikkaria and its own violent history. How a movement toward fair trade and high end production had until recently produced a stable, unified society - until the borders of their world had stretched so far that some Ikkarens thought their culture was going to be dangerously diluted.

Before Malcolm realized it, three hours and had passed and the all clear came over the loudspeaker.

"Well," said Lesilia, "I wager you've had quite enough of my company."

"Not remotely," said Malcolm, but he nevertheless headed for the door.

****

Trip stared across the table in the captain's mess. The dark-haired alien woman with the strange fingers seemed awfully at home with the captain. He'd only been gone a week, and it appeared Archer had gone and found himself a girlfriend. He glanced over at T'Pol to see what she thought, but of course her face was nothing but a blank. He even tried to read her mind, but it appeared that T'Pol was neither surprised at the captain's actions or interested in his love life. She seemed to just think this was - expected.

"So, Jon tells me that your people embrace logic above all else," said Essilia, "There's a similar cultural movement on Ikkaria, though it has never become dominant. My sister knows more about them - they produced a geometrically abstract art movement sometime in the last century.'

Jon smiled. It was nice not to feel like a third wheel for once.

"Essilia's sister is also aboard. She's a professor of art. Or she was, before the coup."

"There are universities in the outer colonies," said Essilia, "So I'm sure she'll find a position if it turns out the new regime is permanent."

"Her sister looks just like her but with different coloring. They are identical twins, but Ikkaren's develop pigmentation after they are born based on environmental factors."

"I've heard of species with that trait," said T'Pol, "Thank you again, captain, for having the swimming pool built in the cargo bay. I believe it will be an excellent source of recreation for the crew."

Jon smiled. No doubt she and Trip put it to good use over the last week. Both of them seemed very relaxed and happy.

"If you ever do visit Ikkaria, there are magnificent hot springs on the northernmost continent. Fire and ice, they call it."

Trip was studying the Ikkaren woman, trying to figure out if the captain was right in trusting her. She seemed all right, but he wasn't sure he wanted Enterprise embroiled in another species internal political struggles - no matter if the captain's new girlfriend was one of them.

After they had said goodnight, Trip and T'Pol headed back to their new quarters. They were actually her old quarters with a door cut through to the next space over. It still wasn't big, but two people would be fine for awhile. Three, well thought Trip, we'll deal with that when the time comes.

"So, what to you think of her?"

"She seems pleasant enough," said T'Pol, "and the captain seems to like her."

Trip waited for more elaboration. But then he remembered that Vulcans don't gossip. He sensed that T'Pol simply trusted the captain's judgement, and if that judgement proved wrong, well they would have to deal with it. It was a good attitude, and he decided to try and share it with her.

She sat down on the edge of their new sofa, which was really an adapted bed from the new space and lit a candle. He sat next to her and gently put her hand in his.

_You can hear me right?_

_Of course. _

_Still getting used to it._

_We've plenty of time. _

_******_

The next morning Trip headed off to breakfast, alone. T'Pol had some work to do, so he decided to let her eat in their quarters while she went over some data scans. As fun as the honeymoon had been, he was glad to be getting back to engineering and glad to see everyone again.

He grabbed a tray of food and spied Malcolm in the corner. He was sitting at a table with a woman that looked exactly like the captain's girlfriend, except her coloring was different. It must be the sister, he thought, and it looked like Malcolm is doing well with her. Did everyone get a girlfriend while I was gone?

Malcolm beckoned him to his table.

"Trip Tucker....this is Lesilia, one of our Ikkaren guests," said Malcolm.

"I think I met your sister last night," said Trip, "At dinner with the captain."

Trip sat down. He shook the young woman's hand, though it was hard to grip with those long fingers of hers.

"I think my sister has dined with your captain every night since we have been aboard," said Leslia.

"They seem to be getting along," said Trip. He caught the young alien woman's eye. He recognized immediately that she recognized what "getting along" was a euphemism for. Trip was left wondering how well she and Malcolm were getting along.

"You're the art historian," said Trip, "Your sister told my wife and me that's what you do."

"I suppose I am still an art historian," said Leslia, "Though I guess I am no longer a professor. I received a message that my position has been dissolved by the new government. But that was to be expected. I guess I'm lucky I wasn't on Ikkaria when the coup happened. I'd probably be in prison by now."

Leslia sighed.

"Well, no matter," she said, "It's best just to look forward. Who knows what the future will bring? It was nice to meet you, Trip, but I must be going. I promised my sister I'd help her inventory some of the contents of her vessel this morning. I'll see you later Malcolm."

With that, Leslia slipped away. Malcolm gazed after her, thinking about how graceful Ikkaren women were. His mouth hung open a little bit.

"Well," said Trip, "I'm gone for a week and you and the captain manage to pick up a pair of twins."

Malcolm inhaled deeply then downed some of his coffee.

"That one is married," he said, "Sad to say."

Trip inhaled. Damn, Malcolm had rotten luck with women.

"How was the honeymoon?" asked Malcolm.

"Great," said Trip, trying not to allow his voice to ooze pity.

******

Months went by. Jay gave birth to the Enterprise's first child, a girl. They called her Aurora. Weeks after that Phlox and Amanda welcomed their first child, a boy. The sound of crying babies became a regular soundtrack for the crew. Most of the Ikkarens had adjusted well to life on Enterprise and gradually made themselves useful. Essilia, especially, made a wonderful guide to various colonies, space stations and planets. Thanks to her, Jon had been able to avoid getting the ship involved in the war but still aid a few refugees here and there.

T'Pol had found herself pregnant, as the doctor suspected, but she and Trip had not yet told anyone. Due to the long Vulcan gestation period, she wasn't showing, and she wanted to be sure the hybrid pregnancy was viable before saying anything.

She had, however, been overtaken by morning sickness despite the fact that Vulcan women did not get morning sickness. It was a human.

"I guess the kid gave it you," said Trip as he tended to his wife, "It must come from my side of the family."

She even visited the doctor later that day. He refused to give her anything.

"You know we wish to keep your medication intake at an absolute minimum. I suggest a little neural pressure. It doesn't just work for insomnia, he said.

T'Pol got down from the bio bed, thankful at least that her symptoms subsided once she was up and around.

"Do you want to know if it is a boy or a girl? Some people don't want to spoil the surprise."

T'Pol raised an eyebrow.

"It will be a surprise now as much as it would be nine months from now." Phlox had guessed that she would give birth after a year of gestation.

"It's a boy," said Phlox, "And every day I'm more confident you'll carry to term. Just think, the first Vulcan/Human hybrid."

T'Pol rested her hand on her stomach. She felt relief wash over her. Vulcans might not be emotional, but they form highly strong bonds with their children. She did not want to lose her son.

"Thank you, doctor," said T'Pol, who headed off to her shift on the bridge.

***

Malcolm rushed into his quarters, and Lesilia followed. He rummaged around his bookshelf.

"Here it is," he said, "William Blake. He was both a poet and artist, and he integrated the two mediums like no other English poet."

Lesilia took the book.

"Thank you," she said, "It's an amazing world where I can learn the classics of a species from hundreds of light years away...."

Malcolm cleared his throat.

"Well," he said, "I'm glad to be able to lend it to you. . ."

Lesilia shut the door behind her, and she locked it. Malcolm said nothing as she moved toward him and kissed him. He kissed back, pushing aside what a terrible idea this was. It was insane, he thought. No doubt she was just using him. No doubt she was just drowning her grief. . .he couldn't think anymore after that.

After the blur of their coupling, he lay naked next to her and stared at the ceiling. She also stared.

"I'm sorry," he said.

She turned.

"What for?"

"You're husband may still be alive..."

She laughed.

"Oh....that. Thoren," she laughed some more.

"He might be alive. And he might be dead. Either way, he was or is a professional soldier. If he is alive, he's probably enjoying plotting an escape or leading a rebellion. But I don't want to talk about him. Put him out of your mind...."

Malcolm reached an arm around her. He knew he was being used, but he didn't care.

"It must be hard, losing someone you love that way."

Lesilia laughed again.

"Oh, I didn't love him."

Malcolm searched her face.

"Hell," she said, "I liked him well enough. And I was always flattered that he chased me. But I never loved him. Not when we were kids. Not when we were adults. I told him over and over. But he was a military man, and he was used to getting what he wanted. After he arranged my release from the Grey Guard last year, he made a statement to the press about how much he loved me. People went mad for the story. The reporters made up this whole, incorrect narrative about us being in love. Suddenly, the whole world wanted the happy ending to that narrative...and I was just too tired not to give it to them."

Malcolm let this bit of information sink into his psyche.

"You must think I'm the queen bitch of the ages," said Lesilia.

"No," said Malcolm.

Lesilia inhaled deeply.

"Good," she said, "Because I'd hate for you to hate me."

******

Time kept passing. Months went on, and everyone settled into their routine. T'Pol put away her Vulcan catsuits in favor of loser robes, but she was grateful the morning sickness had subsided. Hoshi and Hayes got married, but she insisted that they wait a few years to have children. Essilia moved in with the captain, and nobody said anything. And if anyone wondered about Malcolm and the married twin, they didn't say anything to his face.

Malcolm had decided things would go one day at a time. He hated himself, but he hoped that word of her husband's death would solve their problems. Or perhaps she could just divorce him from afar - those kinds of things were done all the time.

He would lie awake next to her and think about it, even though her husband was nowhere nearby by. Even though she didn't love her husband, she loved Malcolm. Why did the legal formalities even matter to Malcolm. Lesilia was more his than she had ever been her husband's. But deep down, Malcolm was an old-fashioned man. So yes, it bothered him. He thought of all his friends, who had paired off and were starting families. It just didn't seem fair.

Though, when he looked down into Lesilia's yellow eyes, none of that mattered. None of it mattered at all.

*****

The lights are were low in sickbay as T'Pol lay on a bio bed. She had surrounded herself with candles, her eyes closed in deep meditation.

"Where's Commander Tucker?" said Phlox, not caring if he interrupted her.

"In engineering," she said, "But he will return in plenty of time for the birth. It is hours away."

Phlox shook his head. He had delivered hundreds, if not thousands, of humanoid babies. Pain was a part of the process. Most species took medication to kill the pain. Some cultures required the women to suffer through without medication. But Vulcans were the only species he knew that required women to remain silent through the process. Their Vulcan minds were so controlled, but even they couldn't bury all the pain.

Just then, the captain came into sickbay.

"Has the newest crew member arrived?" he asked. T'Pol was behind a curtain, so he could see her.

"No," said Phlox, "Hours away."

"May I see her?"

Phlox nodded.

Archer peered around the corner. T'Pol was still fully dressed, but she really looked about to give birth at any moment.

"I want you to look at these scans," said Jon, "I think we are being followed by a cloaked ship."

T'Pol reached up and took the PADD. She examined the reading for a few moments.

"Yes," she said, "I concur."

"So, anything interesting going on with you today?"

T'Pol did not respond.

"Good luck," said Jon as he headed up to the bridge.

He met Essilia there. She was sure they were being tailed by the Grey Guard. Mainstream Ikkarens did not use cloaking technology, it was banned. But she was sure the energy signature was an Ikkaren one.

"How is T'Pol?" asked Essilia, "Has the baby arrived?"

"Not yet," said Jon, "Hours away. So she had time to look over these scans. She agrees. We're being followed."

Essilia refrained from rolling her eyes. T'Pol would always be trusted first when it came to these kinds of things - even if the Vulcan woman was in the middle of giving birth to her son.

"Let's drop out of warp," said Jon, "We might as well see what they want sooner rather than later."

Within moments, a Grey Guard commander appeared on the viewscreen.

"How can I help you?" asked Jon.

"Are you Captain Archer?"

Jon nodded. "I am."

"We've got some intelligence that says you've got a Ikkaren woman aboard. We need to speak with her."

Essilia folded her arms. She glanced at Hoshi, who gestured that the Grey Guard commander wouldn't able to see her from his vantage point. He didn't know she was there.

"Her name is Lesilia. And we've come to take her to her husband."

****

Moments later, Essilia, Lesilia and Jon sat in his ready room.

"I have to go," said Lesilia, "If I don't, the Grey Guard will think Enterprise is taking sides. It will put everyone on this ship in danger."

Essilia smashed her hand down on the desk.

"They've clearly pressed him into service in exchange for finding you. It's insane. You have no idea what they are really planning on doing to him or you once you get home. You'll be put on display."

Lesilia looked out the window.

"So what? I can live with that more than I can live with putting this ship and all its good people in danger. We both knew this was temporary. . .that it was unlikely either of us would stay on Enterprise. Well, now its over for me."

Jon and Essilia glanced at each other. They had been discussing permanence for some time.

"It's for the greater good," said Lesilia.

Jon sighed. The greater good was a part of Ikkaren culture. They simply didn't put the needs of the one over the needs of the many. He guessed that Essilia would respect her sister's decision.

"Well," said Jon, "At least let me offer to take you to Ikkaria on Enterprise. I don't like you transporting over there alone."

Lesilia waved her long fingers.

"No," she said, "but if you'd be willing to escort me in a shuttle, I'll take you up on that."

"Will do," said Jon.

***

A few hours later, Malcolm, Jon, Essila and Lesilia took a shuttlepod to the Ikkaren craft. They docked and were immediately greeted by the Commander. Jon was friendly as he introduced himself. Even though he was terribly worried about his defacto sister-in-law, he wanted these Ikkarens to know that his ship was trying to remain neutral.

"I'm glad you are joining us," said the Commander to Lesilia, "How long until the rest of you depart?"

Essilia stepped forward.

"We'll depart when I'm certain my sister is safe."

Malcolm said nothing. He exercised every single bit of British emotional control he had. He hadn't even had time to be alone with her, for one second. He had been summoned to the shuttlepod. The next thing he knew, he was escorting her away from the ship. There had been no time for a goodbye.

He had thought he would feel heartbreak, but instead he felt anger. She didn't love Thoren and it wasn't safe for her to return to her home world. Why would she make such a stupid gesture? The Enterprise could outgun any Ikkaren vessel. They were of no threat. Why didn't the captain make her understand that?

Just then, Thoren appeared in the corridor. He was wearing a Grey Guard uniform.

Lesilia said nothing.

"So your a turncoat?" said Essilia, "What did they promise you?"

Thoren was tall and thin. He had coloring similar to Essilia, with dark hair. He remained silent.

"Leave, all of you," said Lesilia.

Malcolm heard sadness in her voice. She didn't want to go, so why would she? She couldn't have any more loyalty to him, now that he had abandoned her cause? Could she?

Malcolm saw Thoren reach for a weapon. He lifted it, but he appeared to have no target in mind. He reached for his phase pistol but before he lifted it - he saw Lesilia drop to the floor. Her yellow eyes were open, but expressionless.

Malcolm's hand shook and he just wanted to fire. But there were at least ten weapons pointed at him and the others.

He looked over at Essila, who had gone pure white. No color remained in her lips. or eerily, in her eyes. Those eyes rolled back, and she fainted into the captain's arms.

Thoren shrugged.

"The media wanted a happy ending to our story, but I'll wager her tragic death at the hands of meddling off worlders will sell even better."

Malcolm pointed his phase pistol at Thoren. But he knew, if he fired, he would die. That didn't matter. But he couldn't make the same decision for the captain or Essilia. He lowered his weapon.

"Go back to your ship, Captain," said Thoren.

****

Essilia came back to consciousness in the shuttle for just a moment, then returned to sleep. Malcolm took the controls of the shuttle so his captain could console the woman who had lost her only sister, her twin. Malcolm couldn't imagine what that would be like.

He was in pain of course, but it was hollow. It had all happened so quickly. It didn't seem real.

Just then, Hoshi rang on the comm.

"Just so you know," she said, "We've got a new crew member. A boy, with pointed ears like his mother. Everybody is healthy."

Malcolm took a deep breath. Numbness engulfed him. The only thing he knew was that he welcomed it.

"Tell Trip and T'Pol congratulations," said Jon. He made no mention of the events on the Ikkaren ship. There would be time for that later.

"Are you okay, Malcolm?"

Malcolm steered the shuttle toward the launch bay.

"Fine, sir," said Malcolm.

Both men knew that was a lie.


	3. Chapter 3

E2: Implications Part 3

Part 3:

_Author's Note: Okay, here's where I'm veering strongly from canon. I tried to figure out why Archer wouldn't have tried to figure out how to destroy the spheres - and I couldn't think of a reason. So, in my E2 universe, the crew of the Enterprise decides that rather than fly around the Expanse for a hundred years - they are going to make themselves useful and go after the spheres and the sphere builders. We're in full on AU territory now. _

Six months after the murder of Lesilia, the Enterprise found itself orbiting a sphere, far away from Ikkaria and the conflict. T'Pol and Malcolm had taken a shuttlepod into the interior to study the objects and determine if Enterprise could learn more about them and how they were causing the anomalies.

Studying the sphere had become one of T'Pol's projects since the corridor. She split her time between her regular duties as first officer studying the spheres and taking care of her son - though the new ship's daycare was helpful in that respect. She also occasionally studied the corridor and how it had thrown them back in time, but that felt like going backward and not forward.

Since Lesilia's death Malcolm had come to enjoy T'Pol's company more than ever. All the other people on the ship treated him with pity or couldn't look him in the eye or didn't know what to say. T'Pol treated him as she always had.

Malcolm couldn't help thinking that this was one of many positives about Vulcan culture.

Yet, Vulcans hadn't yet mastered the British art of small talk. T'Pol hadn't said more than a word or two in the hour since they had docked.

As they walked around the empty, cavernous interior of the sphere, Malcolm decided to break the silence.

"How's Lorian?"

T'Pol looked up.

"I haven't seen him in a few days," said Malcolm, "not since Trip brought him to the mess hall on Sunday. He looked well then."

T'Pol blinked.

"He is well," she said, "Trip claims he is quiet for a human baby. I think he is rather emotive for a Vulcan baby."

Malcolm grinned.

"Well, besides the ears, he's starting to look a hell of a lot like his Dad," said Malcolm.

"That is to be expected. It's a function of evolution," said T'Pol, who had, if anything, grown more attached to her son as he had come to resemble Trip.

Malcolm shook his head, and he wondered what Vulcans and Humans of this era would think about a hybrid child. Even in their era, inter species cross breeding was controversial. Now, the ship had a Denobulan/Human and a Vulcan/Human growing up on it. And given the Captain's ongoing attachment to Essilia, it was probably only a matter of time before a Human/Ikkaren child was born. Enterprise truly was going to be a brave new world, thought Malcolm. One he wouldn't be a part of, not now.

On a whim, Malcolm decided to move the conversation in a different direction.

"What do you think of Essilia?"

Lesilia's sister had, of late, dominated the captain's time. Even though there was nothing romantic between T'Pol and Archer, Malcolm wondered if she didn't feel as though her influence had somehow been usurped by the alien woman.

"She has been a most helpful guide," said T'Pol.

Malcolm nodded.

"Do you think she's good for the captain?" asked Malcolm.

T'Pol raised that Vulcan eyebrow at him.

"Meaning?"

"Meaning. . .do you think she makes him happy? Do you think she's a good addition to the crew?"

T'Pol reached down and adjusted her scanner. She carefully took the readings for a full five minutes. Then, she took a deep breath.

"She is not a logical person. Ikkarens appear illogical in many ways, more so than humans. Think for a moment what happened to her sister. Such illogical violence does not speak well of the race. And Essilia herself appears to make decisions on instinct and pleasure rather than on reason and just cause," said T'Pol slowly, "Thankfully, however, the captain appears to appreciate logic as much as he ever has."

Oh, I see, thought Malcolm. Essilia is the perfect person for the captain, as far as T'Pol was concerned. Essilia was welcome to the captain's romantic affections, but she had better not start giving him logical advice. That was T'Pol's turf, and she would no doubt defend it.

T'Pol walked to the opposite end of the empty, echoing chamber. Ossarian pirates had not yet started using the spheres to store their stolen goods, and so room after room in the sphere was empty, lit only by the bizarre energy that powered the sphere's internal core.

Malcolm followed her.

"Every sphere we have encountered produces the same readings," said T'Pol, "It's fascinating."

"Well, if we ever need to stash anything," said Malcolm, "We could always do it here."

T'Pol nodded. She too remembered the pirate raid on Enterprise. It was clever of the Ossarians to use the spheres.

"So far, we still have plenty of storage aboard the ship," said T'Pol, "but in the future we may just make use of these spheres."

Ironic, thought Malcolm, the sphere builders were ultimately responsible for so much of the horrors to come - yet there was nothing anyone of them could do about it.

Suddenly, T'Pol froze. She closed her eyes.

After what seemed to be a terribly long time, she opened them again.

"Enterprise has been hard hit with an anomaly," she said, "Critical systems are down, including communications. We need to return at once."

Malcolm paused.

"How do you know?"

T'Pol looked at him.

"I just do. Now let's go."

*******

Shuttlepod Two flew out of the sphere and straight toward Enterprise. T'Pol shook her head. Neither warp nacelle appeared to be operational and the interior lights appeared to be on auxiliary power. Thankfully, life support was operational. The anomalies had posed so little problem since the corridor, they had all become complacent. She of all people should have remained vigilant.

_Are you still all right? _

_Yes. The warp engine is off line, but it looks like we've got impulse engines. _

_Where is Lorian? _

_Jay Mckenize took him. Not much for the MACOs to do right now._

_Good. Malcolm and I will dock shortly. _

T'Pol glanced over at Malcolm, who was staring intently at her.

"How did you know the ship was in trouble, again?" he asked "The comm system was and is still down."

T'Pol took some readings from the sensors as Malcolm piloted them toward the launch bay. If she had been on a ship of Vulcans, this wouldn't be an issue. But she wasn't on a ship of Vulcans, she was on a ship of humans, and it didn't feel right keeping critical information from Malcolm. It was his concern, how she knew about the ship.

She sucked in her breath and went against her instincts. She told Malcolm the truth.

"Vulcans have telepathic abilities. We. . .bond with our our mates. So, Trip was able to let me know that the ship had been damaged and that we needed to return."

Malcolm grinned and clapped his hand down on the controls. He laughed.

"I knew it! Something like that had to be going on. . I mean, the way you two work together - well. . .there had to be ...something."

T'Pol gave Malcolm a stern look.

"Vulcans don't discuss this with non Vulcans. In fact, I was unsure such a bond was possible with a human. As it turns out, one is."

"Well," said Malcolm, "Thank you for confiding in me. It would have driven me crazy. . .if you hadn't."

T'Pol took a deep breath and punched more data into her scanner.

"You are welcome. But I would appreciate it if you didn't say anything to anyone else. It's not something I should be talking about."

Malcolm shook his head. Trip didn't strike his as the type of guy who could keep a secret, but maybe that had changed. Vulcans, unlike Ikkarens, Andorians and half a dozen other species he could think of, were totally different from humans. Keeping something like that a secret didn't make sense to Malcolm. On the other hand, it explained why Vulcans appeared to not express affection for their mates. He was certain that she had plenty plenty of love and affection for Trip, but why show it when you could send it telepathically? Trip certainly had been going where no human man had gone before, that was for sure.

Malcolm and T'Pol arrived in the launch bay to find the ship in chaos. Cargo was stuck to the wall, deck plating was twisted and warped, and sparks seemingly flew from everywhere.

T'Pol and Malcolm made their way to the bridge, and found the captain at T'Pol's science station. He saw her return.

"Glad you're back," he said, "This anomaly came from nowhere - no warning. Was there any sign of activity on the sphere?"

T'Pol shook her head.

"Nothing, sir," said Malcolm, "Whatever internal changes in the spheres internal mechanism during a graviton radiation emission weren't detectable by our sensors."

_Bloody useless sensors_, added Malcolm in his head.

*****

After six hours of assisting in repairs on the bridge and elsewhere, T'Pol entered sickbay and found Phlox milling around his animals.

"Good Morning, Commander. What can I do for you?"

T'Pol looked around sickbay and made sure no one was there.

"I want to work on the inoculation for the Trellium-D. It appears that our pre-corridor calculations no longer work. Not-lining the hull will put the ship in danger," said T'Pol.

Phlox examined T'Pol's eyes and hands for any sign she had been using the toxic substance and found none.

"It might take awhile," said Phlox, "but I could continue to research a possible inoculation. However, you must promise me you won't try to synthesize your own. I don't want you anywhere near that poison."

T'Pol closed her eyes and images of the crew of the _Seleya _flitted through her mind. So did her early experiments with emotion - kissing Trip's clone, seducing the real Trip a few weeks later...then she thought of how she had fallen apart when the captain had gone on his suicide mission..how she had cried. . .no, no she could not ever expose herself to that substance again. With Trip's help, she had control over the new emotions - a place to focus them - but she new that any more damage to her neural pathways might kill her. She doubted a human, or a Denobulan for that matter, could understand.

But at this earlier juncture in the history of the Expanse, they hadn't yet mastered their avoidance techniques. Lining the hull needed to be an option, especially if the anomalies were going to start becoming more frequent.

****

Jon and Essilia lay in bed, both staring at the ceiling, and Porthos was curled up at the foot of the bed, fast asleep. Jon had long since told her everything about the Xindi mission. In fact, she had heard about it multiple times. Seven million humans dead, for no particularly good reason. It boggled her mind, and she did like the idea of helping Jon stop such an atrocity. She may not have been able to help her sister, but she could help Trip's sister as well as millions of others. Lesilia would have liked that.

"We heard when their planet was destroyed not long ago. There are apparently thousands of refugee ships spreading out throughout this part of space. A watery moon three systems away has become home to a whole group of Aquatics. I believe they are building a city - an underwater city. There are apparently air pockets for visiting terrestrials like us"

Essilia was quiet for a moment and sat up.

"Why don't you contact the Xindi and render aid?" said Essilia, "Make a good, human impression. Then, when these sphere builders try and convince the Xindi to destroy Earth - well, then they'll have reason not to trust these - builders."

Jon thought that one through for a moment.

"We can't take the chance that the sphere builders will just accelerate their plan. If they build the weapon now, it would alter the timeline irrevocably."

Essilia looked down at John.

"The Xindi of this time period are hardly in a position to build a super weapon. Their focus is on survival . ..but you have a point. I suppose it's best to avoid anything that could tip off the sphere builders."

Essilia didn't know much about quantum mechanics, and according to John and his pointy eared first officer, the humans had limited knowledge of what the sphere builders knew and didn't know about the future. But it seemed that they had a sense of possible outcomes but had a difficult time discerning what events led to those outcomes, unless something like a massive Human/Xindi alliance made it crystal clear. Any attempt to contact the Xindi might have unintended negative consequences.

But, Essilia thought, there had to be a way to counteract the sphere builders without waiting over a century. She just hadn't thought of it yet.

****

Essilia stood in the Command Center, examining the scans of the sphere that the crew had made before and after the Enterprise had been thrown back in time. They were nearly identical. The spheres were close to a thousand years old, and therefor there was little difference between the before and after.

T'Pol arrived, wearing the purple uniform. Essila shook her head. The Vulcan liked to rotate her colors.

"I'm glad you could come," said Essilia, "I'm no scientist. But I had a thought. Perhaps Jon - and by extension the rest of you - are focusing on the wrong goal."

T'Pol said nothing but walked up to the command screen and saw the scans of the spheres. If she found the Ikkaren women's statement presumptuous, she didn't show it.

"Jon is fixated on Earth - and stopping the Xindi. That's all he talks about, his only goal. But what if we stop the spheres? No sphere builders wanting to 'terra form' our galaxy - no need to deceive the Xindi into attacking Earth."

T'Pol raised an eyebrow.

"You believe our goal should be to destroy the spheres," said T'Pol, "rather than stop the future attack."

Essilia smiled.

"Precisely," said Essilia, "I just have no idea how we would do it. If we destroy one - that will hardly achieve our goals. But if we could somehow figure out a way to neutralize them or destroy all of them at once with a chain reaction....but I'm a real dunce when it comes to complex physics. I barely understand how my own warp drive works - I'm really just a pilot."

T'Pol looked up at the scans and remembered, a year earlier in the dream-like time before the corridor, trying to figure out a way to destroy the spheres. Then, came Azati Prime and the reptilian attack nearly destroying the ship. And, the Trellium-D nearly destroying her.

"I suppose it couldn't hurt to study the idea," said T'Pol.

"I haven't said anything to Jon yet," said Essilia, "I don't want to get his hopes up if it turns out its not feasible. He has so much on his mind . . .I guess nobody ever expects to be the leader of a group of temporal exiles."

T'Pol picked up a PADD and brought up some data. She compared it to the scans, and wondered if the waves of graviton radiation emitted by the spheres could somehow be harnessed against them and their makers. T'Pol liked the idea, there was poetic logic to it.

Essilia brushed her dark hair from her face and studied the Vulcan. Humans were easy to understand. They were passionate, much like the Ikkarens. But the notion of emotional suppression went against everything that was Ikkaren. On the other hand, thought Essilia, if Ikkarens had mastered their emotions, her sister would still be alive.

"There's one other thing," said Essilia, "My late sister worked with a professor - a physicist on Ikkaria who spent his life studying these spheres and their connection to the spacial anomalies that have been tearing up this region of space. If anyone can help you figure a way to use those spheres to save Earth - he will."

T'Pol raised her eyebrow.

"That would mean returning to your world," said T'Pol.

"It would be dangerous," said Essilia, "but it's something. And we would have to go soon. The man was elderly when I met him five years ago. I'm not even sure he's alive."

T'Pol nodded.

"I agree that until we have a sense of the plausibility of destroying the spheres," said T'Pol, "We should not approach the Captain. But I will continue to study the matter."

***

That night, T'Pol returned to her quarters after picking up Lorian from the daycare of deck two. She placed him in a carrier and assessed his well-being. She would never smile at the boy, but she enjoyed making him smile - something she would not have done had the child's father been a Vulcan. But Lorian, pointed ears or not, was half human. She covered her face with her hands, then slowly revealed her face to the child.

Lorian squealed with delight.

"Peek-a-boo," said T'Pol in a monotone voice, covering her face again.

When she slowly revealed in again, more squeals of delight. Then, Lorian reached up and grabbed a piece of her hair, holding it tight. Then, he pulled.

The boy was strong, thought T'Pol, extracting herself from his grip.

But soon it was time to put the child to bed and she did so. She looked at the time, knowing Trip was still delayed in engineering.

All the better to examine these scans, thought T'Pol.

In the hours since she had met with Essilia, the had found the idea of the spheres a distraction. And she hated distractions. But the idea that they - not their descendants - could be the ones to complete this mission appealed to her. The idea of settling somewhere, not roaming the expanse searching for information on the Xindi, appealed to her as well. She looked at Lorian, asleep in his crib.

It's too much responsibility, she thought. He deserves to choose his own destiny.

She fixed herself some tea and sat down for a long night of study.

When Trip returned, he found her nearly asleep at her desk. After checking on Lorian, he approached her. He sensed that she was working on something important. But she suddenly began to suppress what it was - so he knew it was very important.

_What are you up to? _

_I don't want to get anyone's hopes up. Give me time._

"Do you have a way home? Back to own time?" said Trip aloud.

T'Pol shook her head and felt how crestfallen he was. She took his hand, which he now understood to be one of the ultimate acts of Vulcan intimacy. No wonder she hadn't shaken his hand all those years ago when they met.

"I believe we've been focusing on the wrong goal," said T'Pol, "Essilia and I were talking about the spheres this afternoon. She thinks that if we destroy them, their makers will have no reason to turn the Xindi against Earth."

Trip pulled up a chair, without letting go of her hand. He sensed how promising she thought the idea was and how careful she wanted to be as she approached it.

"We have the information Degra gave us," said T'Pol, "And Essilia knows of an Ikkaren researcher who might have even more information. But we would need to disable or destroy all 78 spheres, not just one. A daunting task."

Trip examined the scans.

"They're all interconnected," he said, "It's not an impossible idea."

Trip understood the implications. They were never getting home to their own time or place, but they might be able to complete their mission. But as much as he understood quantum mechanics as it applied to warp theory, he didn't understand M-Theory enough to understand what the consequences would be for their timeline. For all the craziness of their situation, his life had turned out pretty damn good. Better, he thought, that if they had never been sent to the Expanse.

_What if we stop the Xindi attack and Enterprise is never sent into the Expanse?_

Trip glanced over at Lorian's crib and wondered if it was worth it, to wipe his son out of existence in order to save every planet in the galaxy from the sphere builders.

_The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few._

Trip looked into his wife's brown-green eyes. Thanks to the bond, she didn't need to tell him how painful the idea was. But she was right. Seven million first. Then Billions on Earth. Billions on Vulcan. Billions on Andoria. . .and so on. They could not be concerned with their own small circle of loved ones, when the stakes were so high.

Trip let go of her hand, and he gently pulled her into a hug. She gently put her head on his shoulder and he wrapped his arms around her. Over the past year, she had gradually become accustomed to this strange form of human intimacy. She even enjoyed it a little, though it still felt strange and childlike. Vulcans held their children, but never each other in this way.

****

Hoshi ran into Malcolm in the mess hall. It was late, and he was sucking down coffee. She wondered what could be keeping him up so late. It had been months since they had gone to tactical alert. But he looked tired. Hoshi had thought he looked tired ever since Essilia's sister had been murdered. Nobody knew for sure if she and Malcolm had been involved, but Hoshi definitely belonged to the "yes" team on that particular question. Malcolm struck her as the type to fall in love with a married woman. She sat down at his table. He looked like he had lost weight, and Malcolm had never been very heavy.

"What's up, Malcolm?" said Hoshi.

Malcolm put down his coffee.

"Just studying Ikkaren tactical methodology," said Malcolm, "Essilia has been very, very helpful in preparing me for a possible run-in with these Grey Guards. She doesn't know they believe we've taken sides in their civil war or not - but if they do, we'll know it the moment we happen upon them."

Hoshi had helped herself to some green tea, which she sipped.

"It must be nice for Essilia to have you around," said Hoshi.

"Meaning?"

"Meaning she lost her twin sister. I don't know anything about Ikkarens, but losing a twin is one of the worst things that could happen to a human. She must be ripped to shreds. And it must be nice to have someone who also misses her sister around," said Hoshi.

Hoshi theorized that Essilia, for all her attachment to the captain, wouldn't have been so eager to leave her life, culture and people - if her sister hadn't been killed. Since the murder, Essilia had adopted more human dress and manner, studying the history of Earth. Hoshi suspected her new life on Enterprise was a convenient way of forgetting about her past - and the fact that one of her own people, a trusted childhood friend, had murdered Lesilia.

Malcolm paused.

"I like Essilia," said Malcolm, "And I . . .liked her sister a lot. So we have that in common," said Malcolm, "Plus the captain seems a lot happier since Essilia decided to stay with us."

Hoshi nodded. It was all true, and she knew not to expect Malcolm to admit anything had been going on with the dead woman. There was no excuse for a husband to murder his wife, but if she had been unfaithful, there were still people - even among a human crew - who would have blamed her, even if only deep in their own minds. And Malcolm was an English gentleman. He wouldn't kiss and tell anyway.

"How's Joss?" said Malcolm.

"He's fine," replied Hoshi, "But he's had to take up hydroponic gardening as a hobby. There just hasn't been enough for the MACOs to do lately."

Malcolm smiled.

"My father loved collecting insects. I think its very common for military men to take up pastoral hobbies," said Malcolm.

"Well," said Hoshi, "He says he'll have perfect carrots in about four months, which is good because I've taken up cooking again."

Malcolm smiled.

"But you are still working on ...you're work," continued Hoshi, "What you need is a hobby."

Malcolm grinned. "A hobby?"

"We're no longer on a military mission, we're no longer on a short term exploration mission. This is our home. These are our lives. You need a hobby."

Malcolm was silent.

"Maybe the captain can teach you water polo," said Hoshi.

"I'm afraid of the water," said Malcolm.

Hoshi smiled.

"Maybe its time to overcome that fear. We've got the fantastic new swimming pool/artificial beach in Cargo Bay 3. Maybe its time to expand your horizons. You, like me, used to be afraid of the transporter, but now we've both gotten used to it."

Hoshi yawned.

"Don't stay up too late," she said.

*****

Several days later, after the ship had made a supply run at a nearby colony, T'Pol asked to see Malcolm in the command center but did not tell him why. When he arrived, she stood at one of the monitors and appeared to be examining the data they had taken from the spheres.

"You wished to see me, Commander," he said.

T'Pol nodded and gestured that he should come stand next to him. He did.

"I'm working on a project that I haven't told the captain about," said T'Pol, "and I need your expertise."

Malcolm looked at the scans.

"Do you believe we could extend the energy variables on the phase cannons?"

Malcolm squinted a bit. He couldn't think of a reason to extend the energy variables.

"It's possible," he said.

"It would take a phase burst on a different spectrum to cause a chain reaction on the sphere reactors. In theory, if we hit a centrally located sphere right as the energy waves were in the process of creating the anomalies - we could explode not only the sphere we hit - but all the other ones."

Malcolm gasped. He understood the implications. No spheres. No sphere builders. No Xindi attack.

"The problem is," said T'Pol, "is it is likely we will get only once chance. The Sphere Builders would recognize what we were trying to do and alter their plans. They could try and attack Earth at an earlier time - or come after us. I don't believe they can see what we are doing now - but if we attack a sphere, they will recognize the meaning of our actions."

Malcolm took a deep breath.

"If we're not careful, we could make things worse rather than better. . . What does the captain think?"

"He does not yet know what we are working on," replied T'Pol, "Essilia feels it is best, and I agree, to have a viable plan before informing the captain."

"This was her idea?" asked Malcolm.

"Initially," said T'Pol, "But she did not understand the science, so she came to me. Trip knows, too, because I have a difficult time keeping secrets from him, for reasons of which you are aware. Trip also believes we should have a concrete plan to present to the captain. He has enough on his mind."

Malcolm thought for a moment, and he agreed. Why bother the captain with something that was only in the initial stages?

"However," said T'Pol, "There are two problems. One, I am unsure where on the light spectrum to adjust the phase cannons for maximum effect. Two, I am not sure how long it would take for an explosion to detonate once we hit the core with our phase cannons. I would prefer not to make this a suicide mission for Enterprise, if possible."

"I may be able to help you with the first problem," said Malcolm, "But you're on your own for the second."

"We'll also need to bring Phlox in on this," said T'Pol, "He knows the most about the sphere builders."

As far as T'Pol understood it, the sphere builders could not physically manifest in their dimension. They could project images of themselves and communicate with the Xindi and other species, but that was about it. Moving game pieces on a board, thought T'Pol. She wondered if the spheres were removed, if their builders would still be able to communicate with the Xindi or if they would try again in the future. There was much to consider.

"I believe," said T'Pol, "We must make a trip to Ikkaria. The man Essilia spoke of may be able to answer our questions."

****

After a few weeks of work, and consultations with Trip, Phlox and Malcolm, T'Pol decided she should be the one to broach the idea of destroying the spheres to the captain, but Essilia had other ideas. They huddled outside Jon's ready room and argued.

"It was my idea," she said, "We'll tell him together."

"That would be illogical," said T'Pol, "Give your personal relationship. I prefer he make an unbiased decision."

Essilia shook one of her long fingers at T'Pol.

"That's so stupid! We're on the same side! You want him to be biased in my favor so he'll go alone with the plan."

T'Pol held her hands behind her back and pushed down the burst of emotion she felt welling up inside her.

"I depend on the captain's judgement. I prefer him to examine our data without prejudice."

Essilia laughed. Vulcans just did not make sense to her.

Just then, Jon peaked out the door of his ready room. He wasn't sure, but something in the two women's body language peaked his interest. They were fighting about something.

"We need to see you," said Essilia.

T'Pol sucked her breath in, but followed the Ikkarian woman into the ready room. This wasn't how she had planned this.

"I've been talking to T'Pol," said Essilia, "We think we shouldn't be worrying about the Xindi attack. We should be focused on the spheres. No spheres. No attack. We think."

Jon looked to T'Pol for confirmation.

"We've discussed the idea," said T'Pol, "and I've researched it. I believe it could be a viable option. But there are some issues."

Ikkaria stepped forward and took Jon's arm. Clearly, she wasn't only planning on using logic to persuade the captain, which was totally unnecessary.

"You believe this is possible," said Jon, ignoring Essilia and looking T'Pol straight in the eye.

"I can provide you with the data I've assembled," said T'Pol, "But Essilia knows of a physicist on Ikkaria who might be able to assist us. She is willing to help us find him. With his help, we may well succeed in preventing the first Xindi weapon from ever being built."

Jon took a deep breath. Where the hell was Daniels when he need him?

"If we can do that without making things worse," said Jon carefully, "We should. But we need to proceed carefully. There are temporal implications we might not understand."

Essilia raised her hand a little bit.

"T'Pol's been working on those, too," she said.

Jon searched T'Pol's placid face.

"I've been studying the matter," she said.

"She wants to know if we'll all disappear when we blow the spheres because your ship will no longer be sent to the Expanse back in your time. I mean, you'll exist, maybe but you won't be you. And none of the children will exist, of course."

Jon looked over at T'Pol. Of course, he said, T'Pol never, ever would have married a human had she not been thrown back in time. Phlox would not have married Amanda with his three wives back on Denobula. . .if T'Pol's plan worked, they would complete their mission, but they would also wipe the seven children that had been born on the Enterprise out of existence.

"The needs of the many outweigh the need of the few," said T'Pol calmly.

Jon shook his head.

"I agree," he said, "on principle. Saving the galaxy means making that sacrifice. But it's going to take time and there may be another way. When Daniels pulled me into the future, we were somehow protected from the alternations in the timeline created by my absence. It was like we were in a temporal bubble, unaffected by the changes outside. If we're going to do this, I'd like to try and create such a bubble to put around the ship.

Essilia grinned and clapped her hands.

"Brilliant!" she said and reached up and kissed Jon on the lips.

T'Pol felt a wee bit sick to her stomach, but she showed no outward signs of disgust. She also thought of the Vulcan Science Directorate's insistence that time travel was impossible. As she such, she was no expert in potential timeline shifts and temporal bubbles. Neither was anyone else on the ship. They would need this Ikkaren physicist more than ever. From what little Essilia could tell her, the man was aware of how the Spheres existed outside of normal time/space.

"Going to Ikkaria to find this Dr. Spaine, it may not be completely safe," said T'Pol.

Essilia nodded.

"It's not going to be. I'm sure Enterprise will have been marked as a potentially dangerous ship - but the good news is that no Ikkaren ship I know could out gun her. And I can brief Malcolm on all the tactical information on the Grey Guards he could want."

Jon and T'Pol said nothing.

"We're just trying to meet with one old scientist," said Essilia, "We'll probably be able to get a message to him beforehand."

"I'll leave you two to plan our visit to Ikkaria," said T'Pol.

With that, she took her position on the bridge. Jon's words had given her hope that the price of destroying the spheres needn't be as high as she first thought.

******

Eventually, Essilia proposed a very practical solution to the dilemma of how to get to Ikkaria. Trip would help her modify the markings and warp signature of her own ship, which was still in the launch bay of Enterprise. She, T'Pol and Malcolm would take the transport to Ikkaria and find Dr. Spaine. Essilia had already been in communication with the doctor, who was eager to help but needed some scrapings from the ship's engines to make his final calculations.

Meanwhile, Trip and Archer and Phlox would stay aboard Enterprise and work on some of the more basic system modifications. When the group returned from Ikkaria with the proper specifications, then Trip and Malcolm could finish the job and they would head after the spheres. It all seemed like a good plan.

"I think I should go with you," said Jon to T'Pol.

"That is not logical. You are needed here," she said, "and Essilia is a capable pilot. We will simply consult Dr. Spraine and return."

Jon knew that Enterprise would only draw attention to itself. It was best they stayed in orbit around one of the new independent out colonies while a small party brought the sample to his lab. But that didn't make in any easier.

"I'll take good care of Trip while you are gone," said Jon.

"Thank you. I will look after Essilia," she said in response.

*****

Before the final departure, T'Pol returned to her and Trip's quarters one more time. He was there, with Lorian. She knew he would rather she not go or that he accompany her - but he needed to work on the engine modifications that were part of the plan. She sensed very human worry in him.

"We'll be fine," she said aloud.

"I know," he said.

With his son in one arm, Trip leaned down and kissed his wife goodbye on the lips. She shut her eyes and accepted the kiss - then kissed back. Luckily, Trip had gotten used to her tentative Vulcan responses to his human overtures. He had even come to be fond of them.

"I'll miss you," said T'Pol.

Her words were the truth. Being separated from one's family was not easy for a Vulcan, and it would leave a hole in T'Pol heart until she returned.

******

Essilia packed happily in front of Jon, chattering about their plans. She was excited to see her homeworld again, despite the bittersweet homecoming. The Grey Guards were firmly in charge, and Essilia knew better than to try and contact any of her extended family. She had no idea what Thoren would do if he knew she had returned, and she didn't want to know.

"We'll all be fine, Jon," she said.

"I know," he replied, "But you should still be careful. Listen to T'Pol. I know that you and she don't always see eye to eye, but she's got a lot of mission experience and knows how to get in and out of places."

Essilia nodded. She should have been jealous of T'Pol, but she had recently come to sort of like the Vulcan. And she begrudgingly understood why Jon trusted her so much.


	4. Chapter 4

The transport approached Ikkaria. Minshara class planets were usually beautiful, but Malcolm caught his breath at the sight of this one. The oceans appeared green, not blue and the clouds were pink. Lesilia had told him of the sunsets, which caused a crystalline burst of light across the sky as the sun dipped below the water.

"Tell me again about this Dr. Spraine," said Malcolm to Essilia.

"He was one of Ikkaria's most renowned scientists," she said with a shrug, "but about twenty years ago he dropped all his other work and became focused on the spheres. He was convinced the anomalies that had been disrupting travel were caused by the spheres . . .it really destroyed his reputation."

"I know that part," said Malcolm, "but do you know what he is like? Why do you think he's willing to help us?"

Essilia shook her head. Every day she missed her sister, but today they needed her. She knew Dr. Spraine. Essilia only knew the man by sight.

"I don't know. I remember that even before his obsession with the spheres he was considered eccentric. He walked in the rain without seeming to notice and he talked to himself. We have a saying . . .the space between genius and insanity is very small, but also infinite."

Malcolm smiled.

"We've got something similar on Earth," said Malcolm.

T'Pol, who was listening, said nothing. Vulcans had no such saying, or any such sentiment for that matter.

Essilia proceeded to contact a nearby space dock, where the transport would dock and they would proceed to the surface via one of the planet's space-to-surface ferries. Essilia had taken the liberty of booking them first class seats. She hadn't dared contact Dr. Spraine yet, fearing their communications would be monitored. She didn't know if the old man was being watched by the Grey Guards, but it was safe to assume he was. From what Essilia heard, the Grey Guard watched everyone.

****

Jon sat in his ready room with Porthos at his feet. He stared at the computer screen in front of him, examining various theories about the nature of time. He wrinkled his brow a bit as he stared.

"Dammit, I'm a pilot not a physicist," he said to Porthos.

It wasn't that Jon hadn't study physics. He had studied everything from flight principles to warp theory since he was a child. But time travel and inter-dimensional space were footnotes in physics books - subjects that had until recently been fun for scientists to think about and pose academic questions - but they had no practical use. Jon had always been about practical use. Now he wished he had paid more attention.

At least, however, human physicists thought about such academic questions. Vulcans, he had learned after studying their database, ignored anything determined to have no practical application.

The door chimed.

"Come in," said Jon.

Trip entered, carrying a PADD as usual.

"What's up, Captain?"

"Just pondering the nature of time and existence."

Trip laughed. He and the captain shared a love for practical physics and engineering. But ever since their mission had started, they had both faced issues that weren't in the standard texts.

"How are the engines?" said Jon.

"Working just as they should," said Trip, "It helps that we haven't been attacked in a long while. But I've been looking at what Malcolm thinks needs to be done to the phase canon in order to attack the spheres. . .we had better calibrate them right or the energy from the core of the sphere will bounce back onto the hull. It won't be pretty."

Jon nodded.

"We've only got one shot to get this right," said Jon, "If we tip off the builders as to what we are doing. . . I can't imagine what they will do. And I doubt whatever their revenge will be - it will be visited on Earth, not on us."

Trip looked down at the data he brought.

"Most likely we won't be around for them to mess with, if we fail."

Jon shook his head. They had already discussed finding a place to hide the children off ship - but that came with dangers. Destroying the spheres might create a quantum bubble around Enterprise. When they emerged, the timeline outside that bubble could very well be different - different enough so the children might not exist when they went to retrieve them.

So Jon faced down the truth that he was planning on embarking on a dangerous mission to destroy a mysterious technology powered by a source he barely understood. Not only was the fate of Earth and the entire galaxy at stake, he was going to have babies aboard his ship - just what he need to add to the stress.

On the other hand, that fact just made him more determined to succeed. He was going to destroy those spheres and blow their creators back to whatever hell dimension from which they came.

"Have you heard from the away team?" asked Trip.

"Yes," said Jon, "They've docked and are headed down to the planet on a public transport. Everything is going smooth so far."

Trip relaxed a bit. He knew that T'Pol could take care of herself, but he still worried when she was on an away mission. It was silly, he knew. She could certainly take care of herself better than he could care for her. But he missed her and missed knowing she was not in harm's way.

Jon leaned back in his chair.

"I'm reaching a point where all I'll have left to do on this plan is wait," said Jon, "and I hate waiting."

Jon reached under his desk and removed a bottle of bourbon.

"Care to wait with me for awhile?"

Trip grinned. As far as he knew, everything in engineering was fine. And Lorian was safe at the daycare. He pulled up a chair as Jon poured two generous glasses.

"To blowing those sphere builders back from whence they came," said Jon holding up a glass.

"Amen to that," said Trip.

****

After the landing party found digs at a hotel over looking a lake, they made their way to the university. Dr. Spraine had been given a small lab and offices in an old building long-thought too primitive by the younger scientists. Little did they know, Dr. Spraine could usually work out equations on old fashioned parchment that were far more advanced that those produced by the fancy computers inside the main building.

Essilia rang and they were buzzed in.

There, they found a lab that was a cross between a hydroponic garden, observatory and alchemy lab. Beakers boiled and creatures that would have delighted Dr. Phlox squawked and squealed in their cages. T'Pol couldn't imagine why a sphere-obsessed scientist would need them.

"I wonder what the creatures are for," she said, "He's not a biologist."

"They're pets," said Essilia, "He gets lonely without them."

The man himself was nearly six foot five, with long Ikkarian fingers and pronounced ridges on his nose. His long hair was jet black and his eyes were a strange pink color. He wore a long frock, that T'Pol guessed was some kind of Ikkaren lab-wear.

"Ah," he said, "My visitors from far away. . .and one long lost Ikkaren. I'm sorry about your sister, however belatedly."

Dr. Spraine bowed.

Essilia bowed back in an Ikkaren gesture of acknowledgment.

"Enough of that," said Dr. Spraine, "So you want to destroy the spheres?"

"Yes," said T'Pol, "We believe their builders intend to make this galaxy uninhabitable to anyone but their own species. The spheres are also the cause of the anomalies that are creating havoc in this region of space."

Dr. Spraine clicked his long fingers together and laughed.

"Finally," he said, "I've found people who understand!"

He scrambled over to a console and pressed a series of buttons. Up popped a three dimensional diagram of the spheres - along with a series of equations that articulated exactly what they were doing.

"The builders are brilliant, in their way," said Dr. Spraine, "Am I to understand you've actually seen one?"

Malcolm nodded.

"We had one aboard our ship for a short while, but he dematerialized. At least, we think it was a he. . "

Dr. Spraine's eyes widened.

"I'm guessing that wasn't its original shape. I think they tried to take humanoid form while interacting in this space. . .you see, their universe is collapsing slowly in on itself. And so. . .well, you know the story," he said.

T'Pol was busy examining the data in front of her.

"Would you be willing to examine these calibrations?" she said holding up her PADD.

"That's why you're here isn't it?" said Dr Spraine as he grabbed the PADD.

"This should only take a few hours," said Dr. Spraine, "You two can go while I deal with this lady with the pointed ears. She seems to be the only one who can understand this."

Malcolm looked at T'Pol.

"Perhaps you two could walk around the campus," she said, briefly grateful that the Dr. was less polite that she was. Given the complexity of the task at hand, Malcolm and Essilia would just be in the way.

"I hear there's a nice breeze coming of the lake," said the doctor as he waived the two away.

T'Pol looked at Malcolm.

"Go ahead," she said, "I'll contact you if we need you."

****

"What strange person," said Malcolm, "and I've been around many scientists since I joined starfleet. Two thirds the crew of the Enterprise are scientists of some kind - but that man seemed odd. Is it an Ikkaren thing?'

Essilia led Malcolm down a long flight of concrete steps toward the lake. It glistened green in the sun and small pleasure craft dotted the surface, many with colorful masts and flags.

"No," said Essilia, "In fact, I'll wager he's even weirder to an Ikkarian than a human. We're not much for that kind of eccentricity. But I've met a few of your crew members that work down in the labs - they are pretty odd themselves."

Essilia led Malcolm to what appeared to be some sort of food cart.

"Two ice balls," said Essilia, "Whatever flavor is best this season."

The man at the cart handed them balls of of what appeared to be ice. But you could hold them in your hand and they didn't melt. Essilia stuck hers on the end of her finger and took a bite of the top. Malcolm did the same, though not as deftly. It tasted cold on his tongue, but it was not cold on his fingers. And it was so sweet he felt a little sick.

"How does this work?"

Essilia shrugged.

"It's our equivalent of ice cream," she said, "and it's less messy...damn I've missed this. And the lake. And the city."

Malcolm knew exactly how she felt. Mostly, he was happy with his existence on Enterprise, but there were days when he longed to stroll across the English countryside and perhaps stop in a pub for a drink.

"I like to think of your sister here," said Malcolm, "She must have enjoyed working at this place."

Essilia smiled.

"She did. She knew how lucky she was."

Essilia pointed in the direction behind Malcolm.

"Her favorite cafe was up that way. Would you like to go there?"

Malcolm nodded and off they went. Soon, they sat outside and a lakeside cafe dining on the Ikkaren analogue for tapas. Tiny little dishes of all sorts of food - all designed to be eaten with fingers. Just another way that Ikkarens are unlike Vulcans, thought Malcolm.

****

Meanwhile, back at Dr. Spraine's lab, T'Pol was amazed at the man's equations regarding the spheres. There was a creative beauty and balance to them she found astounding. They were also the key to making their plan work.

"Again, I thank you doctor."

The old scientist nodded and clicked his fingers together.

"And I thank you. You and your captain and crew. I never thought in my lifetime I'd meet anyone with the means and desire to destroy those evil spheres. Hell, I've even encountered species who worship those things. It's creepy."

T'Pol nodded. She remembered Enterprise's own encounter with such beings. Now, it was possible that the war that had destroyed that civilization might be averted.

T'Pol thought for a moment. But at what consequence? Truly, their actions were going to have far reaching implications across the Delphic Expanse and beyond. On the surface, averting a religious war that destroyed a civilization felt like a good idea, as did saving Earth from the Xindi attack. But wouldn't there be unexpected and unintended consequence of such actions? What if they made things worse, not better? She closed her eyes. It was more than one person or small group of persons should have to decide. But the truth remained that the spheres threatened everyone - and something had to be done.

"You're worried," said Dr. Spraine, "That you'll alter things in ways you can't anticipate."

T'Pol nodded.

"Is your species telepathic?" she asked.

The old man laughed aloud.

"No. I'm just perceptive," he said, "and I've spent a life time thinking about the river of time. But I've never actually messed with it. Partially because this old university wouldn't have funded the equipment with which to do so - and partially because the notion is so frightening. . .I can't assuage your fears that there will be unintended consequences. But I can assure you that as long as those spheres exist, there is a possibility that none of the species indigenous to this galaxy will survive. And if you can do something about that, you must."

There was suddenly a knock on the door.

"It's probably your companions, returned for you," said Dr. Spraine as he pressed his buzzer.

But it wasn't. Two men and one woman, all dressed in the uniform of the Grey Guards, marched into the room. One of the men looked at T'Pol.

"What are you doing on Ikkaria?" he asked.

"I'm a scientist," she replied, "Dr. Spraine is assisting me with my research."

"We've been asked to take you to a debriefing station. If we discover you are telling the truth, everything will be fine."

T'Pol glanced at Dr. Spraine. He nodded and winked.

"I will be happy to answer any questions you have," said T'Pol, who was happy she had sent a copy of her data back to the transport. Whatever happened, to her, Malcolm would be able to get the specs to Enterprise and they would complete their mission.

With that, T'Pol followed two of the Grey Guards, the man and the woman, out of the lab. The third followed behind.

****

Having finished lunch, Malcolm and Essilia were headed back to the lab when they saw the Grey Guards walking with T'Pol. Both of them knew to jump back around the corner, lest they be seen walking toward the lab.

"There's a police station a few blocks north," said Essilia, "I'll bet that's where they are taking her."

"What do they want?"

Essilia shook her head.

"It makes no sense. They couldn't care less about the spheres or Dr. Spraine, as far as I know."

"We need to go see Spraine," said Malcolm, "But it's best if we go around a different way. I'll wager the door is being watched."

Soon, Essilia and Malcolm had rounded the back side of the building. Malcolm gently knocked on the old man's window. He opened it.

"So I assume you know that your friend has been taken," said Dr. Spraine, "The Grey Guards didn't say why. But those bastards stick their noses into everything. I'm fairly certain they have no idea who she is or why she was here. And that's probably the only reason they took her. "

"So they gave no indication that they intend to interfere with the mission?"

Dr. Spraine threw up his hands.

"I'd be greatly surprised if they even knew about the spheres. . .this is probably something much closer to home."

Essilia and Malcolm looked at each other. Both knew that Thoren had let them go all those months ago, but that didn't mean he wanted them wandering about Ikkaria. They both knew the truth about Lesilia.

"Thanks, doctor."

The two headed around the building, and Essilia led the way into a garden which led to a back way toward the station where she believed T'Pol would be held.

"I'll bet Thoren has something to do with this. He probably thinks we're here for revenge," said Essilia, "He's a complete narcissist."

"Not that revenge wouldn't be pleasant," said Malcolm, "but we've got more important matters to worry about."

Essilia pointed to an alley that led to the main street of the city, the center of everything.

"We have a saying. Revenge happens as the cosmos moves."

Malcolm thought about it.

"It means what goes around comes around," said Essilia, "and I believe that. We can't risk ourselves for his sake."

They arrived at the police station, unsure what to do next.

****

T'Pol had expected to find herself in an interrogation room. Instead, she found herself in a pleasant conference room overlooking the lake, sipping tea. She tasted it very carefully - if it was poisoned, the poison had no flavor. Across the table from her was the Ikkaren man called Thoren.

T'Pol knew he was a high-ranking member of the military who had joined the Grey Guard when it became clear that they had control. She also knew him to be a stone cold murderer and probably a psychopath.

"Ikkaren tea is very spicy," he said, "I do hope it's not too much for you," he said.

"It's excellent," replied T'Pol, "May I ask if you have any questions for me. Or are you just interested in my opinion of Ikkaren tea?"

Thoren laughed. Even as a Vulcan, though, T'Pol recognized it was a laugh devoid of joy.

"You don't smile. You don't laugh," he said, "That's very strange."

"Not for a Vulcan," she replied cooly.

"You are the only Vulcan on a human ship," said Thoren, "Am I right?"

T'Pol nodded. Clearly he had gotten some kind of report on Enterprise from somewhere.

"It must be lonely," he said, "being exiled from your people."

T'Pol shook her head.

"I am content to live among humans," she replied.

"You even have a family on the ship, do you not?"

She nodded again. It was a classic interrogation technique. Threaten the family. She wasn't going to reveal any more information.

"Where are the two people - the Ikkaren woman and the human man that you came to Ikkaria with?"

"I do not know," said T'Pol, truthfully.

Thoren stood up and went to the window, clasping his long fingers behind his back.

"He's what I think. I think you're being used. Reed and Essilia wanted to find me. And they used you as a cover. I've no doubt that you had an interest in the old man's work - but I doubt that is the real reason you are here."

He is a remarkable narcissist, thought T'Pol, just like a classic psychopath. Even if I tried to explain that the safety of the known world was at stake, he would not believe it. He would still believe we came here to do him harm.

"I'll even wager that you didn't even know the real reason for this visit," said Thoren.

T'Pol's face showed no emotion, but she marveled at the sheer wrongness of his impression. Clearly, his informants about Enterprise had gotten her character and nature incorrect. She could not even imagine herself as Malcolm's pawn. The notion was absurd.

"If Lieutenant Reed and Essilia have another agenda besides helping me find the professor, I am unaware of it," said T'Pol truthfully.

Thoren turned.

"Well," he said, "I can believe that. And I have no quarrel with you. If you help me find your companions, I can assure you that I'll return you to your ship and your family unharmed. You'll even be able to take that data you transferred up to the transport."

T'Pol decided to play along. She asked a question that he would expect her to ask.

"What do you want with my friends?" she said, trying to put innocence in her voice.

Thoren looked sad. Nearly genuinely so.

"My wife committed suicide some time ago, after spending some time on your ship. . .It is my understanding that her sister has spun a ridiculous story that Lesilia died at my hands. This story has been affecting my reputation."

T'Pol thought about what she had heard about Lesilia's murder. Thoren had said something about pinning it on humans - clearly Thoren had changed the story to suicide. And wasn't being believed.

"I need her to retract her vindictive, delusional story," said Thoren, "That's all."

Nonsense, thought T'Pol. He wants me to believe that no harm will come to them. Classic, if you are dealing with a fool.

"I didn't witness your wife's death," she said, "I was told she was murdered. But that could have been a lie. Or a misunderstanding."

Thoren's expression changed just a bit. He believed that he had gotten to her. Psychopaths were like that, thought T'Pol. They believe in themselves and the lies they tell. They can't imagine other people not doing the same.

"But I truly don't know where they are. They were uninterested in my research. Essilia was going to show Lieutenant Reed around the campus. My research was expected to take hours. It's possible they haven't even returned," said T'Pol.

Possible, but not likely. No doubt Malcolm had discovered her arrest and was probably nearby. Getting to the transport was going to be difficult, she thought. Clearly, the authorities monitored the comings and goings of civilians carefully, and there was no transport technology for them to fall back on. Getting back to Essilia's ship was going to be difficult.

T'Pol looked down at the PADD she still had with her. This man Thoren couldn't care less about the data that was also contained there. She could possibly leave the planet with it and get to Enterprise another way. Hopefully, with Malcolm and Essilia. But, T'Pol also considered the possibility of having to leave them behind. The mission was too important not to consider that grim possibility.

****

Malcolm and Essila watched from the alleyway, and Malcolm raised his scanner toward the building. It detected one Vulcan bio sign.

"So, Mr. Intelligence officer? Have you a plan?"

Malcolm shook his head.

"Give me a minute," he said, "There has to be a way - beyond having Enterprise come and transport us to the ship. The last thing we need while attempting to destroy the spheres is the Ikkaren government chasing after us."

Essila clicked her fingers together in annoyance.

"Sorry my people are such idiots," she said, "If you had met us a few years back. . ."

****

T'Pol sat alone in conference room, waiting for Thoren to return. She had formulated a plan - a risky one. But she thought it would be worth it if she could pull it off. She knew she could pull off the first part, but she worried that the second part would backfire.

The door opened. There was no time to reconsider. She stood up and approached Thoren.

"I've been thinking," she said softly, "Perhaps I can convince the Ikkaren woman - Essilia to retract her story. I'm sure she just didn't understand what she saw..."

Before Thoren could react, she reached up and gave him a swift nerve pinch. He collapsed onto the floor. T'Pol knelt next to him. She placed two fingers on his temple and closed her eyes.

"My mind to your mind, my thoughts to your thoughts. . . "

She had never performed this act before, and she didn't know if she could. She had to remember the trauma with Tolaris - but she also remembered what he did to connect with her mind and she recreated that as best she could. When she finished, she stepped back.

"Help," she shouted.

Two Grey Guards appeared in the doorway.

"He collapsed," she said innocently, "I've been trying to render aid."

One of the guards took over and began to revive Thoren.

T'Pol watched him, carefully. His eyes fluttered open but he couldn't speak. His eyes stared, glazed over.

That was not what she had intended. She only wished to plant a thought in his head - to make him release her. But she had not done that. She had damaged him in some way.

Soon, medics were called. It appeared her mind meld had caused a stroke - one that may well have permanently brain damaged him. He was taken away.

T'Pol sat for what felt like hours, when the female guard came in to the room.

"You're free to go," she said.

"Thank you," replied T'Pol, "How is the man who collapsed?"

"Unable to ever hurt anyone again," said the guard, "and for that, most everyone around here is grateful. Now go, find your friends and get out of here."

T'Pol did not need to be told twice. She quickly retrieved her belongings and headed out into the main street. She grabbed her communicator.

"T'Pol to Reed. . .I've been released."

Malcolm responded not via communicator but by appearing from around the corner, with Essilia.

"We saw them take Thoren out on a stretcher," she said.

T'Pol thought she noticed a twinge of fear in the Ikkaren woman's eyes. Malcolm, too, searched T'Pol's face for answers. Of course, neither of them found any.

"I attempted to form a mind-link with him. My intention was merely to have him release me unharmed. Unfortunately, the meld went badly and he was. . .harmed."

Essilia wiped a tear from her eye.

"What goes around comes around," she said, feeling a bit empty that it was not her who had exacted the revenge.

"I did not mean to damage him," said T'Pol, "but I believe he would not have let you - or Malcolm leave this planet alive."

Malcolm, too, was feeling empty inside. He would have wanted to serve the dish of cold, revenge to Thoren, but it was not to be.

"We're free to leave the planet," said T'Pol, "but we best go soon."

****

A week later, _Enterprise_ sat at dead stop outside the central Delphic Sphere. Jon sat in his chair, thinking about what they were about to do. On the one hand, they would save the entire galaxy. On the other hand, they were about the alter the timeline forever. It wasn't a matter to be taken lightly. And he wasn't even sure they would succeed.

T'Pol was more confident. She had been over the data time and again since their return from Ikkaria. She was sure the plan would work.

If they hit the main reactor core of this sphere, just as it was emitting a graveton burst - they would cause a chain reaction that would destroy all the spheres.

Malcolm sat at tactical. Hoshi manned the comm. Travis was at the helm. Trip was down in engineering, making sure they had all the power they needed.

This was it, the big show.

"Take us in, Mr. Mayweather," said Jon.

Soon, in a matter of minutes, they entered the sphere. Enterprise slowly made its way to the core. Weapons were already on line.

"Fire, Mr. Reed," said Jon.

Everything was quiet at first. Then, the chain reaction started in a burst of color.

"Get us out of here, Travis," said Jon.

Enterprise flew out of the sphere and into an anomaly created by the explosion. Gravity all over the ship shifted, and the deck warped. Engines went off line, and the ship was thrown nearly a light year on the energy wave that was created by the explosion.

Jon was knocked from his chair.

Then, all was quiet.

****

"Thank you," said Jon.

The Ossarian on the view screen was nothing like the first Ossarian Jon had met on his mission. This gentleman was friendly and filled with helpful information.

"Yes," he said, "We're getting reports that all the spheres exploded. And the anomalies have all but stopped. Who would have thought?"

"Not us," lied Jon.

He and T'Pol had agree that given some species' attachment to spheres, they had best keep their involvement in the destruction as quiet as possible.

"Looks like we did it," said Jon.

Their calculations had indicated as much in the week since the attack, but Jon thought it was nice to have actual verbal confirmation. He knew T'Pol found that silly - but still.

That night, Jon convened a dinner with himself - and T'Pol and Trip. It was just like old times. He even convinced her to sip on a glass of wine.

However, the agenda was important.

"Mission accomplished," he said, "So what now?"

Trip and T'Pol looked at each other. All of them longed for home, Earth, Vulcan. . .they were still out of time and out of reach. _Enterprise_ was home.

"At first," said Jon, "I thought we should become a generational ship. Just keep moving. But that was when we still had a mission. Now, it seems like we should find a new home. Let the children grow up knowing fresh air. . ."

Jon hadn't told anyone, but he and Essilia were expecting their first child. He was going to add to the diverse group of human and alien/human hybrids that would make up the next generation.

"Essilia has told me that several Ikkaren colonies have been near-abandoned since the coup. Perhaps one of them could make a home for us," said T'Pol, who had discussed this option with Essilia already.

Trip closed his eyes and felt relief wash over him. He didn't want his son growing up on a starship, even one as much loved as _Enterprise_. He wanted Lorian to know how to swim in an ocean and to camp under stars.

"I will look into options," said T'Pol

****

Three months later, Malcolm and Essilia stood on a hill overlooking what was soon to become a thriving town. Most of the Ikkarans here returned to their home world after the coup - leaving a fairly solid infrastructure. The dozen or so Ikkarens who had stayed were happy to welcome new blood, and even turned the governing of the colony over to Jon and his crew. They were just glad not to go back and live under the Grey Guard.

The Colony itself was called Beta X - not very poetic, but the crew had insisted on a name for the main city-town: Archer City. Jon protested but was overruled.

"I think Archer city will be a great place to live," said Essilia, who was now visibly pregnant with a boy.

"You're just saying that because the kid will likely be born with the last name Archer," teased Malcolm.

"He's definitely got the genes to be a starship captain, that's for sure," said Essilia.

She and Jon had moved into the large house adjacent in the center of town that had once been home to the colonial governor. Since Jon now held that position, it seemed only fitting. Jon had tried to argue, but Essilia put a stop to that right away. She was not going to be deprived of a fine house just because her husband liked to downplay his own importance.

"She would have liked it here, I think," said Malcolm. He didn't have to tell Essilia who he was talking about. She knew.

"She would have loved it, but she's not here," said Essilia, "So you need to move on. Find someone new. She wouldn't have wanted you to spend the rest of your life pining away."

Malcolm kicked the dirt beneath his feet. The sun had set and as twilight came over the colony, lights began to appear in the houses.

"Perhaps its time. . .I still feel cheated I never got to make him pay for what he did. . ."

Essila grabbed Malcolm by the shoulder.

"Don't. Revenge eats away at people. It is always visited back on the perpetrator. T'Pol didn't act out of revenge but rather out of necessity. She will be okay. You or I would have been poisoned," Essilia paused, "Remind me to thank her again for sparing both of us that fate."

With that, the two walked back to the colony. Malcolm went to his apartment on Main Street, alone. Essilia returned to her big house, and Jon. She was going to bring up a name for the boy that night, and she decided that she would insist on Malcolm.

****

Trip and T'Pol had also settled into a house, but theirs was closer to the edge of town, near the ocean. Trip had missed the ocean, and so T'Pol had arranged for them to have this house right on the water. Trip had even thought of building a boat - eventually. He still had _Enterprise_ to take care of and the colony as well.

Lorian had even started to swim, just as he had started to walk and even talk. He smiled and giggled like a human child, but he had the intensity of concentration that marked Vulcan children.

T'Pol and Trip both hoped he would have the best of both worlds.

Because of their bond, T'Pol hadn't had to tell Trip of what she had done on Ikkaria. Whatever guilt she might have had, it was mitigated by necessity. They had completed the mission. That was what was important.

She did, however, decide to study everything in the Vulcan database on mind melds. If she ever need use one again, she was determined not to harm the subject.

Trip looked at his wife and was happy. They would have a good life here.

T'Pol slipped her hand into his. Nothing more needed to be said.

****

Jon sat in his garden and watched Porthos pee on a rather peculiar flower that he wasn't all that fond of anyway. Essilia would be home at any moment from her walk, and they could finally have dinner.

He looked down at the PADD before him, which contained reports on everyone's activities. Phlox had set up shop in the clinic and settled in a nearby house with Amanda. Another child was on the way. Travis was going to split his time between _Enterprise_ and local transports. He and Jay found a little house just a few blocks away, though Jon heard that Travis was still not quite used to living on land. Jon had appointed Joss Hayes as head of colony security, and they were working on how to turn military officers into police offers. He and Hoshi chose a fine apartment right in the center of town. She too would split her time as a communications officer for the colony and _Enterprise_. And Jon had put Malcolm in charge of intelligence. Hayes was going to keep order - but Malcolm had the more important job of determining threats to the colony.

Jon reached down and petted Porthos. This wasn't going to be easy, but he was confident in his people. They would make this colony thrive. He was sure of it.

Little did he know that another version of himself, one hundred and nineteen years later would come upon the colony.


	5. Chapter 5

Author's Note: _So, As I en-visioned the Beta-X colony, I wanted it to be a far better life for our heroes than on a generational ship wandering around a dangerous part of space. In this universe, we've got the descendants of the NX-01 crew growing up successful, prosperous colony with no real worries. So, I pictured them as young people who like to have fun. This is the final chapter!_

Delphic Expanse - 2153

The NX-01 had been in the Delphic Expanse for three weeks, when they were hailed by an Ikkarian transport. Even though Captain Jonathan Archer's mission in this part of space had secretly evolved into something far more than just exploration - he still considered exploration his primary job. They had heard of this trader-race the Ikkarens, but they had not yet encountered any of them.

"Ensign Sato, how's the UT working?"

During their last first contact, the UT had flubbed a few verbs, creating some awkwardness.

"Fine, Captain," said Hoshi, her earpiece in place.

Malcolm Reed sat at the tactical station, and Travis was at the helm. T'Pol manned her science station, wearing a blue uniform of Starfleet - with a blue science stripe across her shoulders. She was now Commander T'Pol of Starfleet. After two years of serving on Enterprise, Starfleet had asked her to formalize her commission. With the permission of the high command, she did so.

Jon was grateful to the high command for allowing her to join Starfleet. She had become invaluable to him over the past two years, and he was sure she would become even more so as their mission continued.

"Captain Archer?" said a youngish male Ikkaren voice across the comm.

Jon looked at Hoshi, who indicated in gesture that she had not told the Ikkarens his name.

"This is Captain Archer," said Jon curiously.

A young man with long yellow hair and purple eyes appeared on the view screen.

"You're not the Captain Archer I was looking for," he said, clearly puzzled.

"Is there another one?"

The bridge officers on the Enterprise all became as puzzled as this Ikkaren.

"Yes," said the young man, " Captain _Karyn_ Archer. . .we're supposed to rendezvous with her at Lucius Prime in three days. We were wondering what the Enterprise was doing out here. We thought there was something wrong. Where's Karyn?"

Archer looked at T'Pol, she gestured that she had no explanation.

"Well, I'm afraid I've never heard of a Karyn Archer. I'm Jonathan Archer of the Starship _Enterprise_."

The Ikkaren man appeared irritated.

"And I'm telling you that unless there are two _Enterprise_s, the only Captain of the Enterprise I know is Karyn. . .and we're supposed to meet her in three days. She's transporting a group to the festival on Lucius Prime and we've got gear they need. But since you're clearly not the _Enterprise_ we're looking for - we'll be on our way. You people really ought to have a better system for naming your ships and captains...this is getting confusing."

With that, the Ikkaren man broke off communication and his ship jumped to warp.

"T'Pol," said Jon "It looks like we've got a mystery on our hands. Can you find this Lucius Prime anywhere on your star chart?"

"Yes, Captain," said T'Pol.

"Can you think of any reason why that Ikkaren man would mistake our ship for another _Enterprise_?"

T'Pol thought for a moment.

"I've heard of pirate vessels adopting the name of other ships and masquerading as them in order to safely navigate regions of space. No doubt this ship has done something similar."

Jon considered this. It was the most likely explanation.

"That Ikkaren didn't seem to worried about the other _Enterprise_ robbing him. But suddenly I have an urge to visit this Lucius Prime colony. Set a course, Travis."

Jon shook his head. He knew this mission was going to be strange, but he hadn't expected to meet a Doppleganger of his own ship.

****

Lucius Prime was normally a sleepy colony on the edge of Ikkaren space, its major business being tourism and the scientific study of its unusual rock formations. But once a year, it hosted the biggest music and art festival in the region of space, welcoming artists and musicians from all the nearby colonies. The festival also drew nearly a half a million visitors to the small planet. The normally quiet orbit over the colony became crowded with starships and transports. Over the years, the colony had developed a business of repairing and cleaning the ships while their crews and passengers - mostly young people - were down on the surface enjoying the party.

Dr. Elizabeth Tucker took a deep breath in the halls of the NX-01 Enterprise and thought the cleaning crew couldn't come soon enough. She may have been two thirds human, but her one quarter Vulcan nose could still smell the party that had been raging for the entire week while Enterprise transported a group from Beta-X to the festival. Sure, the ship was over a hundred years old - but it didn't need to smell like it did.

"Miss. . ." said the Ikkaren head of the Ikkaren cleanup crew, "We'd really like to get started. As instructed, we'll be careful of the animals in your sickbay."

"That's Dr. Tucker," said Lizzie, "And thank you. Remember, Captain Archer wants you to contact me if anything goes wrong. I'm just going to be at the Ellysian Hotel for the duration of the festival."

"Not going out into the wilds with the rest of your crew, _doctor_?" asked the man.

Lizzie smiled. She may have looked young, and in fact she was young, but she was not up for the hedonism of the Lucian Prime festival.

"Somebody's got to be on duty to treat all the sick and. . hung over Beta-X ers - and since I'm the doctor its going to be me," said Lizzie.

The Ikkaren man looked Lizzie up and down, wishing his doctor looked more like her. She appeared very much like the humans, with small hands and pink skin, but her ears were pointed and her eyebrows more slanted. Those ears stuck through a main of dark hair - not Ikkaren black, but still very pretty. She also had amazing greenish brown eyes, a shade he had never seen in a human or Ikkaren.

"We'll have sickbay ready in twenty-four hours, should you need it," the man said.

"If you need to contact my captain," said Lizzie, "contact me. I can get in touch with her, if need be."

Lizzie hoped the man honored her wishes. Karyn Archer wasn't just her captain, but her best friend, and she had told Karyn that it was time for her to take a vacation. Five days without worrying about the erosion of the plasma injectors or buckles in the hull would do her friend a world of good. It was doctor's orders, and she expected her friend to obey.

Lizzie looked around _Enterprise_. The Beta-X colony had since built better, faster ships - but she loved this old girl very much. Her grandparents on her father's side and her great-grandparents on her mothers side had been members of the original crew, founders of the Beta-X colony. And her beloved Foremother T'Pol had told her many stories of the ship's adventures.

Lizzie's father, Lorian, had several times suggested that Enterprise be retired to a museum, but Lizzie and her friends Karyn and Alexander had all begged him to let them keep flying the ship. It was meant to explore, not be put on display.

Karyn, great-granddaughter of colony founder and the ship's first captain, made an ideal choice to be the captain. And after she completed her medical training on Ikkaria, Lizzie could think of no better place to practice than on board, under the command of her best friend. Sure, Lorian had limited the scope of their potential explorations to the area that was still known as the Delphic Expanse, but that had been enough. Over the past year, the young crew had had a great time visiting all manner of worlds and making first contact with several new species.

"Oh," said Lizzie, "By the way. . .you do know that my father is the Executive Director of the Beta-X colony?"

The Ikkaren recognized the twinge in the young woman's voice. In just a few generations, Beta-X had become one of the region's most important powers. Lorian, the Executive Director, wielded considerable influence. He got the young doctor's message - don't screw us over.

"I'll be at the hotel," said Lizzie, "Anyone who wants to find me can find me there."

****

Alexander Reed reached down to pull his Captain up over the last rock face of their climb. Karyn was the best pilot he knew, and she had really stepped up in the year she had been made captain of the Enterprise and come into her own. But she was a crap hiker and a worse rock climber. Something about Ikkaren hands, he thought.

"Thanks, Alex," said Karyn, as she brushed herself off.

Alex was one of a relatively small number of full-blooded humans of the Beta-X colony. His great grandparents had been Hoshi Sato and Joss Hayes on one side and Malcolm Reed and Julia Lynch on the other. Karyn's great-grandmother had been Ikkaren, but she was mostly human as well. Except for those tiny bones and hands - and the ridges down her nose.

"No problem," said Alex, "We should have a good view of the main stage here," he said.

They wanted to make sure they caught the performance by Alex's brother's band - Beta Effect. They had both seen Malcolm, who was the guitarist, perform hundreds of times. But the Lucius Prime Festival was a huge deal, and the human-influenced music of Beta Effect had caught on in both Ikkarian and Xindi colonies.

"Are you relaxed yet?" asked Alex.

Karyn rolled her eyes.

"No. . .I'm nervous for Malcolm. I know it's ridiculous. He does this for a living now. . but there's half a million people down there - including a whole party of Xindi insectazoids. I just don't want him to screw up or choke."

Alex shook his head. If Karyn wasn't so smart about musicians, she's probably be Malcolm's girlfriend. They had always been super-tight.

"By the way, how are the plasma relays? Do you think the crew in orbit will be able to. . ."

Alex stuck his fingers into his ears.

"I can't hear you. Doctor's orders. Lizzie told me to make sure you didn't discuss the ship while on your vacation!"

Alex was the ship's engineer, and he and Karyn had also attended flight school together. He was also her first officer, and as such he agreed with Lizzie that Karyn had been far too stressed out lately.

"We're here to talk about the bands and the drinks and the art-ships and the people. We won't talk about our ship. . ."

Karyn, like any good workaholic, was annoyed. But she nodded.

Just then, the lights down on the main stage shifted. The show was about to begin.

****

All the senior bridge officers, including Trip and Dr. Phlox, had gathered on the bridge. None of them had an explanation for what they were seeing, both on the view screen and on their instruments.

Orbiting the colony of Lucien Prime, among hundreds of other starships and transports, appeared to be the mysterious doppleganger of Enterprise. Even the warp signature was close enough to be a near match. The only difference in the readings was that the other Enterprise seemed to have more wear and tear. The Quantum signature indicated it was the same age as Enterprise, but the actually components of the ship appeared older - over a hundred years older.

Jon knew a little bit about the history of this part of space, as he had been briefed on it for this mission. For centuries, the Delphic Expanse had been plagued by strange anomalies that seemed to defy the laws of physics. Then, about 119 years ago, those anomalies had stopped. There was no known explanation.

"T'Pol," said Jon, "Any theories?"

Jon was beginning to think of Daniels and the Temporal Cold War, but he knew his science officer remained skeptical about time travel. He wondered if this was Enterprise but from the future somehow.

"None yet, Captain," said T'Pol.

The orbiting space station hailed them.

"This is Captain Archer. . ."

The man on the other end of the comm laughed out loud.

"I'm not trying to tell you Beta-Xers how to run your colony or anything. . .but maybe you ought to rethink the naming conventions for your ships. Having two _Enterprise_s. . .with two different Captain Archers is confusing the hell out of my crew. So. . .your ship is clearly in better shape than your sister ship. . we can offer you the basic maintenance package. Your ship will feel like new. Also, our concierge will be happy to direct you to any festival attractions. . .the Beta Effect has already hit the stage, though."

Trip looked at Jon and shrugged his shoulders.

"We will probably take you up on that," said Jon and signaled to Hoshi to cut off the comm.

"Looks like we do have a mystery on our hands," said Trip.

"And I'll wager we'll be able to solve it if we find the other Captain Archer," said Jon.

****

A few hours later, Malcolm, Trip, T'Pol and Jon entered the lobby of a lush hotel on the surface. The space harbor master had said that they could find the doctor of the ship staying at this hotel. He didn't give them any more information, though, even a name.

"She's only supposed to be contacted in case of an emergency," said the master, "and given how pissy she can get. . .you'll have to go find yourself."

Each member of the crew signed in at the desk, and the young Ikkaren woman behind the counter looked at the register.

"Are you related to Elizabeth Tucker? She's staying her as well - also from the _Enterprise_. It's such an unusual name, Tucker. I figure you must know each other - especially since you kind of look alike."

Trip glanced at the Captain.

"She's my sister," said Trip, wondering how on Earth his sister, who lived in Florida, had found herself on an alien colony over 100 light years from Earth.

"But you didn't get the pointed ears," said the desk clerk, "Your sister has the most unusual . . .more like yours. . ." continued the clerk, gesturing at T'Pol, "Are you also related to Dr. Tucker?"

"No," said T'Pol, cooly.

"Anyway," said the clerk, "last I saw of her she was headed for the casino. . .you might find her there."

The clerk handed them all wrist bands that would unlock their rooms and ordered their luggage taken to their rooms.

"The mystery deepens," said Malcolm, who was starting to being intrigued and amused, when a teenage girl approached him.

"Excuse me," she said softly, "but I overheard that your name is Malcolm Reed. . .are you related to the guitarist from Beta Effect? "

Malcolm shook his head.

"Because his name is Malcolm Reed, too. . .and that's a total Beta-X colony name, right? So you must know him?"

"I'm afraid I'm from Earth," said Malcolm.

From the look on her face, Malcolm could tell that the word Earth meant nothing to this young woman.

"Well," she said, "it's weird that you've never heard of them. . oh, those are my friends, I have to go."

The girl bolted away.

****

Lizzie generally didn't approve of gambling, but her one quarter Vulcan mind was very good at an Ikkaren puzzle game that was popular in the casino. Sure, she had been given a barter allowance by the colony, but she could always use more money while on vacation. And playing XoXo came so easy, it was like minting currency.

In her mind, she counted up the pile of credits on the table and decided that winning any more would draw the attention of the floor manager. The manager could ban anyone from the tables for any reason, including natural logic abilities beyond any Ikkaren.

"Thank you, gentleman," said Lizzie, as she gracefully left the table. Her father did not approve, but once he had told her that if she did gamble - not to be pressured into staying at the table.

"C'mon, beautiful," said the man from which she had won a significant amount of money, "Give us a chance. . "

Lizzie leaned over.

"There's no chance, ever. Of anything," she said and headed off to the gallery on the second floor. Earlier she had spied a bracelet, handmade by an Xindi Arboreal that she coveted. And now she could buy it.

She slipped up the stairs and into the shop.

Jon, who was wandering around the first floors of the hotel looking for clues, thought she was T'Pol from the corner of his eye. The young woman had a similar body type and grace as his first officer, and her pointed ears stuck out from her long hair. But she was more human, somehow. And she was wearing very human-type clothes, including a a long knitted sweater and black leggings. And she was smiling and joking with the clerk at the jewelry store.

The clerk handed Lizzie a bag and she turned to leave, bumping straight into a figure from her history books.

She stopped, and she froze.

"Hello," said Jon, reaching out his hand. "I'm Jonathan Archer."

Lizzie felt her mouth drop open just a little. She called on every bit of emotional control ever taught to her by her grandmother. She wouldn't have been more shocked if she had seen Alexander the Great or Cleopatra standing there.

She reached out and took Jon's hand. He looked into her eyes, and he saw T'Pol's eyes. She may have had his chief Engineer's last name, but Jon bet that this woman was somehow related to T'Pol. How, he had no idea.

"You might find this hard to believe," the woman said, "but I recognize you, Captain."

"Then, you have me at a disadvantage," said Jon.

Lizzie looked around.

"I think I need to sit down. . .there's a bar this way. And I think I need a drink. You'll probably need one, too, after I explain."

She led Jon to a cozy bar up a flight of stairs. It was situated on a balcony overlooking the lobby. Down there, she saw a couple of other people wearing the familiar blue of a Starfleet uniform. She ordered two glasses of Ikkaren tea, the fermented kind and sat down with Jon in the corner.

"What brings you to the Delphic Expanse, Captain?"

"I'm exploring," he said, "Now, may I assume your name is Elizabeth Tucker?"

Lizzie nodded.

"You assume correctly," she said, "but my friends call me Lizzie. I'm the ship's doctor on the other _Enterprise_. The rest of the crew, including the Captain are off enjoying the festivities."

Lizzie considered exploration for a moment. With no Xindi attack, it might be true. But they were a long ways away from where the NX-01 was originally exploring. She guessed there was another reason.

But that wasn't important right at the moment. Lizzie needed to consider how to tell this man who she was and why there was a 121-year-old version of his ship orbiting this colony.

"Have you seen your friend Daniels lately?" she asked.

Jon was shocked. He hadn't expect that question.

"The reason I ask is," said Lizzie carefully, "- is that he helped you understand that time travel is possible. And that time travel has consequences . . .to timelines."

Jon sipped some of the Ikkaren tea. It was strong.

"Go on. ."

Lizzie inhaled sharply and drank some of her own tea.

"Bear with me. . .imagine another timeline. At this junction in time but different. There is an attack on Earth. Millions are killed. Nobody understands why. You and your crew are recalled to Earth. The only thing you know is that the attack was by a race called the Xindi, based here in the Delphic Expanse. In that timeline, this region of space is far more dangerous - filled with anomalies that effect both the nature of space and time. . ."

Jonathan Archer said nothing, but he had an instinct that this woman was telling him the truth, at least as far as she knew it.

"To make a very long story short. Your crew was sent here to stop the Xindi from destroying Earth. During the course of the mission, your ship was sent back in time 119 years. Nevertheless, using information you had gathered - you led your crew on a mission that resulted in the first attack on earth never happening. You destroyed the Delphic Spheres. . .giant devices that were causing the spacial and quantum anomalies. You prevented their builders from co-opting this whole region of space for themselves. . ."

Lizzie paused. The Jonathan Archer from her history books had saved the entire galaxy, but she thought maybe this Captain Archer might find that hard to believe. She thought it best to downplay his accomplishments.

"So anyway," continued Lizzie trying to sound like the story she as telling was perfectly normal, "After the spheres were destroyed, you and your crew realized you couldn't return to Earth or you would corrupt history. So, you settled on Beta-X. It's a Minshara class planet about seven light years from here. The main city had been pretty much abandoned because of a political situation on the Ikkaren home world. You and your crew, along with some Ikkarens you met along the way, settled there."

Jon looked at this woman. If it was true, it started to explain her name. That meant she was related to Trip. Jon saw a little of that in the shape of her eyes and her mouth - and the very human coloring of her pink skin. No green tinge there. But those eyes and pointed ears - he knew where those had to have come from.

"So. . ." he said, "You're part Vulcan?"

Lizzie smiled. Not very Vulcan, thought Jon.

"Commander T'Pol was my grandmother. . .and Commander Tucker was my grandfather," she said.

"On the same side?" asked Jon.

Lizzie nodded in the affirmative.

"My maternal great-grandparents were Ensign McFarland and Crewman Peters. So, I'm one quarter Vulcan, three quarters human. My father is the executive director of the colony. He's half-Vulcan. . .so he's been around longer than most anyone. . .you'll have to stop by for a visit. "

Jon grinned. He couldn't imagine a scenario that would lead to his two senior officers producing a child. On a good day, he was lucky if they got along.

"Excuse me if I find this hard to believe. . ."

"Join the club," said Lizzie, "I nearly fainted when I recognized you. But. . .I understand if you're skeptical. I'm sure Phlox can perform a DNA test that confirms my story."

Lizzie gulped the rest of her tea.

"Excuse me for a moment," she said.

She flipped open her communicator.

"Captain Archer, it's Lizzie, remember when I told you not to call in unless it was important? It's important. Contact me as soon as you get this," she said and then turned to Jonathan, "That's our Captain Archer. She's your great-granddaughter. I convinced her she needed a vacation and not to call in until next week. Ship doctor's prerogative. . . .but you should be proud. She's a great Captain. We've explored all over this region of space in the last year. Before the new ships and defense systems were built, _Enterprise_ was the main defense for the Beta-X - but since that's taken care of now, she's a vessel of exploration again.

Jon didn't know what to think. The young woman's story explained everything - her name, her ears. . .the presence of another _Enterprise_ with another Captain Archer. But he was still unsure if she was telling the truth.

"Seriously. . ." said Lizzie, "You can take me up to see Phlox and he can compare my DNA to my relatives. He'll confirm what I say is true. . .plus I'd like to thank him, his medical logs have been invaluable to me."

Jon still looked incredulous. Lizzie started rolling through everything she knew about Jonathan Archer - and not from the history books either.

"Well," she said, "I do know about the time you and my grandmother were held hostage and the Andorians rescued you. Oh. . .and I know about the mission to retrieve the rogue Vulcan agent that you helped her with. . and I know about how she went with you to discover the Robinson nebula, after your friend A.G. Robinson was killed climbing Mt. Mckinley. . ."

Jonathan was starting to feel a little creep-ed out. He raised his hands.

"Okay, okay. . .we'll go see Phlox," he said.

Just then, Lizzie's communicator pinged.

"Excuse me, maybe that's Karyn. . .this is Dr. Tucker."

"Dr. Tucker. We've got Malcolm Reed here. . .he ingested something after the show and now he's sick. He's insisting you treat him. We've beamed him straight up to your sickbay."

"I'm not even there," she replied, "That's ridiculous. . ."

"We'll you better get there," said the man.

"Very well," said Lizzie, "Care to make quick stop on my _Enterprise_, captain?"

"I'm assuming that's not my Malcolm Reed."

"Assume right. This Malcolm Reed is your Malcolm Reed's great-grandson. And from what I've read they are nothing alike. Our Malcolm is a walking bundle of Id - neither repressed or polite. So. . .care to join?"

Jon nodded carefully. He wasn't sure this was a good idea, but his curiosity got the best of him.

Lizzie flipped open her communicator.

"This is Doctor Tucker, two to beam up to my sickbay. And make sure its the right _Enterprise_ - the one from Beta-X."

In a few seconds, Jon found himself in _Enterprise's_ sickbay. Except is wasn't his_ Enterprise_'s sickbay - it was somehow more worn and there weren't as many creatures. There were a few, though.

Lizzie walked over to a young man, clearly human, lying on a bio bed. He was scruffy and dark haired, wearing black boots and worn clothes. He looked very much like he could be a musician.

"How are you Malcolm?"

"Ugh," he said and sat up, "Some girl dosed me with . . .something. I think its a hallucinogen of some kind. . .damn, it's a good one. I'm seeing Captain Jonathan Archer standing right over there. Weird...I should get more of this stuff."

"Let me know if you see George Washington or Zephram Cochran next," said Lizzie as she administered a hypospray, "You'll sleep for the next few hours. Don't leave this sickbay unless you have permission from me. Ping me. I'm serious, Malcolm."

The young man nodded and then went into a deep sleep.

"Jackass. He probably won't remember that conversation," said Lizzie, "and I'll have you should know he and his friends are responsible for that alcohol stench in the hall. Our Captain Archer has a soft spot for him...and his friends. It's an unusual lapse in judgement. . .but we all have our weaknesses."

Jon was still taking in the walls and lights and sensations of this different _Enterprise_.

"Do you want to walk around?" she asked, "I should probably send a subspace message to my father. I'll wager they've gotten word at Beta X of another Enterprise floating around. "

"I need to get you to Phlox," said Jon, "Though he was starting to believe her story more and more. . .but I wouldn't mind taking a look at the bridge. Shouldn't you not leave your patient alone?"

Lizzie looked down at the younger Malcolm.

"If he were sick, I wouldn't leave him. He's drunk and or high, and he just needs to sleep it off in quiet. Believe it or not, I trust him. We grew up together."

Lizzie and Jon walked together through the halls and up the turbo lift to the bridge. Lizzie seated herself at the comm and composed a message. Meanwhile, out of instinct, Jon sat in the Captain's chair.

"Father - _Enterprise_ NX-01 of this timeline has entered the Expanse. Crew, including Captain Archer, remains much the same. Will send them to Beta-X, if you wish. Love, Lizzie."

"My father knew you quite well," she said, "I'm sure he'll want to say hello again, even if you aren't exactly the man he knew. You groomed him to take over the colony after you. ..were dead," Lizzie said, awkwardly.

"This is very strange," he said.

"I can't argue with that," said Lizzie, "Is Phlox aboard your _Enterprise_? We could beam directly over."

"Let's go," said Jon.

****

A mere half hour later, Lizzie sat on the edge of Phlox's bio bed, looking at scans of her own DNA as well as scans of her ancestor's DNA.

"Amazing," said Phlox, "I figured out a way to combine Vulcan and Human DNA. . .it's supposedly impossible."

"You also figured out how to combine human and Denobulan and human and Ikkaren. There are many, many hybrid people running around Beta-X," said Lizzie.

"What's it like?" asked Jon.

"It's beautiful," said Lizzie, "The main city is right on an small, salt water ocean. There's now nearly 40,000 residents, and close to 100,000 on the whole planet. There are schools and government buildings and a hospital and a cultural center. There are farms out on the edges of the city. The main industries are mineral mining - there's actually a substance that is very useful in creating high efficiency warp engines embedded in the rocks on Beta-X. It's proved to make our colony quite wealthy."

Jon and Phlox both appeared amazed. This was a very peculiar turn of events.

"I think Commander T'Pol is going to have rethink her position on time travel," said Phlox.

"Well," said Lizzie, "if she can come up with another explanation for my existence, I'd sure like to hear it."

Lizzie's communicator pinged again.

"This is Dr. Tucker," said Lizzie.

"Lizzie, what is happening? Why are you up on _Enterprise_?"

"I'm not on our _Enterprise_," responded Lizzie, "I'm on the one from this timeline. The one that just came from Earth."

"Now you're just being weird. What's really going on?"

"I'm telling you the truth, Karyn."

"Why are they here? Why are they out this far? Have you seen them?. .." there was a long pause.

"Just stay calm. Talk to Alex about it, and I think you two should get back to our Enterprise at least. Wait, no. . .scratch that. Meet me at the hotel as soon as you can get there."

"Will do," said Karyn, skepticism evident in her voice.

"She probably thinks I'm pranking her or something," said Lizzie, "Although I've always tried to stay out of those kinds of flight school games."

Just then, Hoshi Sato entered sickbay. She wasn't one of the landing party, and she knew nothing of the identity of the young woman sitting on Phlox's biobed.

"Hi Captain," said Hoshi curiously.

"Hi Hoshi," said Jon, "This is Lizzie. She's from the other _Enterprise_. She's the ship's doctor."

"It's a long story," said Lizzie, staring at yet another person from her history books. Hoshi had Alex's eyes. Or rather, Alex had her eyes.

Hoshi looked surprised, but she said nothing.

"I need to return to the surface," said Jon, "I haven't told any of my officers that are the surface where I am. Care to join me, Lizzie?"

Lizzie nodded.

"I wouldn't miss it," she said, "But I'm going to have to insist we transport. I'm far too impatient to take a shuttle."

****

Jon contacted his away team and told them to meet him in the lobby of the hotel.

"Where have you been, Captain?" said T'Pol, clearly irritated at the breach of protocol as well as Jon's disappearance.

"Solving the mystery of the other ship," said Jon.

Once Trip, Malcolm and T'Pol gathered around him, Jon tried to explain the whole story.

T'Pol immediately proved skeptical.

"The Vulcan Science Directorate has said that Time Travel is impossible," she said. Jon heard ice in her voice.

"Good for them," said Jon, "And I'd like to hear there explanation for the duplicate 100 plus year old _Enterprise_ that's orbiting this planet. Or the young woman I've spent the last couple of hours with that carries genetic markers from more than one of my crew members."

Trip thought for a moment.

"Elizabeth Tucker?" he said.

"Your granddaughter," said Jon, "Phlox confirms it. She's the doctor on the other _Enterprise_."

"I'll be damned," said Trip. It hadn't yet clicked with him why his granddaughter might have pointed ears and resemble Commander T'Pol.

"Captain," said T'Pol, "We must consider the possibility that this is some kind of elaborate deception."

"I was on the ship T'Pol. It's _Enterprise_. A beat-up _Enterprise_, to be sure, but that is my ship," said Jon.

Malcolm folded his arms.

"What did this young woman tell you about the Xindi?"

Jon looked around. Only T'Pol, Trip and Malcolm knew the real reason why Enterprise had journeyed into this part of space.

"She said that in the other timeline, The Xindi had attacked Earth. That we came to stop them from destroying our planet. In that timeline, these Sphere Builders convinced the Xindi that we were the deadly threat to them. . .and they sent a weapon to destroy us."

All of the officers looked at each other. They had been sent into this region of space searching for answers about the Xindi. Because according to an inter-dimensional being that had contacted Starfleet Command - the Xindi were a grave threat to Earth and only a preemptive strike against them could save the budding coalition.

High ranking members of the Starfleet Command had been skeptical. Skeptical enough to send Enterprise into the Delphic Expanse to discover who the Xindi were and why they might want to destroy humanity. But Starfleet command had been spooked enough and taken the warning seriously enough to begin construction on a bioweapon that would destroy any Xindi that came near Earth.

"I never trusted that . . .creature," said Malcolm.

"That's why we were sent here," said Jon, "to find out the truth."

Trip shook his head.

"We need to contact Starfleet and tell them to halt production on that bio-weapon. It sounds like these Xindi are just pawns. . .and since that didn't work out on the other timeline, these sphere builders are trying to use us as the pawns this time."

T'Pol began tapping on her PADD. It took her a few moments, but she was decrypting some important data.

"Starfleet may find that premature," she said, "but I have other evidence that might convince them."

She showed the image on the PADD to the others. It was a giant sphere, nearly sixteen miles wide.

"This appeared in Vulcan space about a year ago," she said, "The High Command has been keeping it highly classified. The science directorate believe the sphere emits gravetron radiation that has begun to cause spacial anomalies."

"I'll be damned," said Malcolm.

"It sounds like these sphere builders are trying the process in reverse this time. Instead of having the Xindi attack Earth, they are trying to get us to attack these Xindi," said Jon.

"But it won't work," said Malcolm, "We won't take their bait."

****

Outside the hotel, Lizzie saw Karyn and Alex cross the street toward her. She waived.

"You won't believe it," said Lizzie, "I've just spent the last two hours with Jonathan Archer. And not the old man I knew when I was little. He and his Enterprise are orbiting this planet right now. . .I even met Phlox and Hoshi Sato."

"Whoa. ." said Alex, "That's insane. Totally insane."

Karyn peered into the lobby of the hotel. She didn't yet believe her great-grandfather would be standing inside.

"Their timeline is different. No Xindi attack.. .so I don't know what they are doing this far out," said Lizzie.

Karyn racked her brain to remember the history lessons of her youth. Everyone knew about the Xindi attack, but she couldn't remember what happened right before them. She guessed that would have been when the timelines diverged.

"All right people," said Alex, "I don't feel equipped to deal with this. We need to get your dad involved, Lizzie. And your grandmother."

Lizzie nodded.

"She's going to be shocked," said Lizzie, "I don't think she ever even considered this possibility."

"Strange, running into the younger you," said Alex.

Alex doesn't know the half of it. Lizzie knew things about her grandmother that no one else, even her own father, did not know. She knew that exposure to Trellium-D had damaged her grandmother's emotional control and all that that had led to. But none of that would ever happen, now. Lizzie thought that the woman inside the hotel would be a very different person than the T'Pol she knew.

"I sent a message to Father," said Lizzie, "I"m sure he'll consult with grandmother over what to do."

Karyn leaned over to Lizzie. She spoke in almost a whisper.

"So what's he like?"

Lizzie thought for a moment.

"You've read all his personal logs. And his Captain's logs. He's exactly like he appears to be in that. Only better looking...I think the pictures don't do him justice."

"And you saw my great-grandmother?" asked Alex.

"Just briefly," responded Lizzie, "She's adorable. Way more adorable than you."

Karyn approached the door nervously.

"I'm the Captain," said Karyn, "I should go inside."

"You'll do fine," said Lizzie, "You've handled everything the last year has thrown at you. Those crazy Ossarian pirates. Those nutty colonists from that gas giant. Those Xindi Aquatics that nearly drowned us all . . .this will be easy compared to all of that."

Alex put his hand on Karyn's shoulder.

"But don't kid yourself, this is highly weird. I mean, not Insectazoid party weird - but pretty weird."

Karyn brushed Alex off.

"Stop joking," she said, "This isn't funny. It's. . .it's. . "

"It's a little funny," said Lizzie, "I mean who else gets to meet live versions of their ancestors? I mean, that could only happen to us Beta-Xers."

Karyn put her hands on her hips.

"I'm going in. . ." she said.

So Karyn strolled into the lobby of the hotel to meet her great grandfather.

****

A few hours later, Karyn had downloaded everything she had on the Delphic Spheres and was showing Jon and T'Pol all the information. Meanwhile, Alex Reed told Malcolm the abbreviated version of his other life in the other timeline.

"So, you were kind of the king of tragedy and all," said Alex, "You know. Brooded around. But my great-grandmother's first husband died in an early pirate attack on the colony. So. . .that's how you ended up married to Julia Lynch."

Malcolm stared into the eyes of the young man.

"And Hoshi is your great-grandmother," said Malcolm slowly.

"Yes," said Alex as he sipped on a generous glass of Ikkaren tea, "But on the other side of the family. She and Major Hayes."

Malcolm couldn't imagine a military presence on _Enterprise_, but then again he couldn't imagine an attack that had cost seven million lives, either.

Meanwhile, Trip was pondering his granddaughter's ears. And his granddaughter, who had not yet specifically explained that she was a quarter Vulcan because Trip & T'Pol had married and produced her father - knew that the Enterprise's chief engineer was good enough at math to figure out that was what had happened.

Lizzie looked over at the exceptionally Vulcan woman helping the Captain Archers with their data. She looked at her grandfather, who had died before she was born, and saw the warm, funny and brave man that her T'Pol had described to her. Lizzie felt a bit sad that in this timeline, it was unlikely the two would ever fall in love.

Bummer, she thought. According to _her_ T'Pol they had been happy for many years.

"So," whispered Lizzie, "It's not like I'm corrupting a timeline if I tell you what happened. How you and Grandmother over there. . .well, you know. .it must seem very unlikely."

This was very awkward, thought Lizzie. Very awkward.

Trip glanced over at T'Pol. He had come to respect her, even like her. And she was certainly easy on the eyes. . .but he couldn't imagine falling in love with a Vulcan.

"Long story short," said Lizzie, "In that timeline, your sister, my namesake. . .she died in the attack on Earth. It threw you into a deep depression. You couldn't sleep. Phlox was afraid you'd get addicted to the sedatives you kept asking for . . .and so Grandmother started helping you sleep using a Vulcan technique...well...one thing led another. Here I am more than a century later," finished Lizzie.

Most of all, Trip was relieved that he knew his sister was was safe and sound back in Florida. He couldn't imagine losing her or what it would do to him. But the notion that a series of events could lead him and T'Pol to. . .well, that was tough to believe. But the proof was standing before him.

"You seem pretty young," said Trip.

"Vulcans have a long life span. . .so my Dad in his 90s when he when he had me," said Lizzie, "I've got two older brothers."

"So, we've never met before," said Trip.

"No. I've seen pictures. I knew Captain Archer a little bit...but he lived well into his hundreds. Longer than most of the originals, even the younger ones."

Meanwhile, Karyn had told Jon everything she knew about the spheres.

"You really need to go see Lizzie's father," she said, "He knows more than anything. I mean, he doesn't remember the attack. . .but he knows. We can take you there. Except that most of my crew won't return until next week. . .I could try and get most of them back. . .but it won't be easy."

Alex piped up.

"Don't be silly. You'll just freak everyone out anyway. We can get to Beta-X and back before Monday. We'll just tag along on new Enterprise."

Karyn shook her head.

"I'm not leaving my ship. . ."

"It will be fine," chimed in Lizzie, "We'll have the Space Dock Master take good care of it. Just one thing. . .Malcolm. .our Malcolm is sleeping something off in sickbay. But I'll just arrange to dump him in a hotel suite here. . the hotel will be happy to have him. That way he can get back to his friends if he needs to. . .Alex, he's your brother, go take care of it."

Karyn nodded. She didn't like leaving her ship, but this was important. In fact, she had already gotten the impression that this was far more important that anything she had ever done.

"So," said Karyn, "If you'll allow the three of us to tag along, we can take you to our colony. I have to get back by next week - but we'll be able to take one of the faster transports back. It will all work out."

****

And so it was that Alex, Karyn and Lizzie boarded the brand new, by their standards, _Enterprise_ and gave the Captain directions to Beta-X.

The three colonists huddled in the mess hall, pretending not to notice the stares they were getting. Captain Archer hadn't yet told the whole crew what was going on or where they were going but rumors inevitably flew.

"I can't believe I left my ship," said Karyn, again.

"What? You'd want to miss this Enterprise's arrival on Beta-X? You've got to be kidding. Everyone will be fine," said Alex.

Lizzie downed the last of her tea. It wasn't nearly as good as the Ikkaren kind, but it reminded her of what her grandmother drank.

"Well," she said, "You two can go fret about what's going to happen. I'm going to go talk to Phlox. . .it's not every day you run into one of your heroes. At least one that as far as you are concerned has been dead for forty years."

Lizzie jumped up and headed toward sickbay before she go there, she ran smack into T'Pol.

The woman wasn't her grandmother, and she never would be, but Lizzie still couldn't help thinking of her as such.

"Hello, T'Pol," she said, in Vulcan.

"You are. . .Dr. Tucker," replied in English.

Lizzie nodded.

"I know it must be strange. Until a few hours ago, you didn't believe in time travel and you didn't believe humans and vulcans could produce a child. It's probably a lot to take in."

T'Pol clasped her hands behind her back.

"There's no reason to believe events in my timeline will be anything like the ones that. . .produced your colony."

Lizzie searched the Vulcan's placid face.

"You should know," said Lizzie, "things weren't easy for you in that timeline."

Lizzie looked around to see if anyone was in earshot, then continued.

"You got exposed to this terrible element that's deadly to Vulcans. Trellium-D. People used to line the hulls of their ships with it to protect them from the spacial anomalies. But that substance is toxic to Vulcans. It causes massive neural degeneration. You were exposed for just a short time - but as a by product of that exposure, you became addicted. Phlox help you quit, but you never got the emotional control you once had back. . ." Lizzie's voice drifted off.

"So you are saying that my - relationship with Commander Tucker was a result of brain damage."

Lizzie thought about that for a moment.

"I'm saying that your willingness to put aside everything that made you Vulcan and pursue the feelings you had - that was a result of brain damage. But according to my grandmother, the feelings were always there. It was just your inability to repress them that was different after the Expanse," said Lizzie, "But for the record, you and grandfather were very happy."

"Vulcans aren't happy," said T'Pol.

"Nonsense," said Lizzie and she leaned over T'Pol and spoke in a whisper, "You don't express happiness. But I know all about mating bonds and telepathy and how when a Vulcan loves deeply that creates a bond so two people know each others deepest feelings. . ."

T'Pol looked very uncomfortable.

"It's not possible for such a bond to form with a human," she said.

"Oh yes it is," said Lizzie, "because you and grandfather had it. It shocked you at the time, too. But it was real."

T'Pol's face, which had moments before hinted at emotion, was once again placid.

"I'm not telling you what to do with your life, T'Pol," said Lizzie, "but the you that I grew up with. . .had no regrets. That's all I am saying."

Lizzie reached down and pulled out a pendant from beneath her sweater. T'Pol recognized it as a Vulcan IDIC symbol.

"Infinite Diversity in Infinite Combination," she said.

"You had this made for me on my tenth birthday. Kids at school were making fun of my ears," said Lizzie.

T'Pol examined the pendant, then she examined the face of the young, mostly human woman who looked so much like herself.

"You don't need to say anything," said Lizzie, and she continued on to sickbay.

****

Meanwhile, Alex and Hoshi had found each other in the mess hall.

"So," she said, "I married this big, burly military guy?"

"I'm not sure he was that big," said Alex, "but I'm pretty sure he was burly."

Hoshi took a bite of her salad.

"This is all so strange. I can't imagine."

Alex shrugged.

"Maybe you should look the guy up when you get back to Earth," said Alex, "Apparently you two were really happy."

Hoshi looked at the young man. Clearly, most of his human ancestors were not Japanese, but something in his jaw and in his eyes reminded her father. She believed that this young man shared DNA with her.

"I'm pretty sure that ship has sailed," said Hoshi wistfully, "but I can say I'm grateful not to have lived in a timeline when 7 million people on Earth died."

"It really traumatized everyone," replied Alex, "I think that's why the other crew worked so hard when they got to Beta-X. They wanted to live good lives, because they knew at anytime. . .well, you are lucky you'll never have to deal with that."

****

Karyn was in Jon's ready room, showing him pictures of Archer City. Jon wasn't just impressed, he was amazed at what had been accomplished in just a few generations.

"The other you did well," said Karyn, "and you should be proud. Even though you'll never have to do it."

Jon looked at the young woman, with the strange ridges on her nose.

"You aren't entirely human, but you're not Vulcan or Denobulan. . ."

"You're wife was an Ikkaren woman named Essilia," she replied, "She was a transport captain. She became your guide of sorts. . .and well, you know how things go. And Ikkarens are interesting people, if I do say so myself."

Jon smiled. Long ago, in another timeline, he was living a totally different life. He was falling in love with an alien woman and founding a colony. And saving the galaxy, apparently.

"We'll give you the help you need to destroy those spheres," said Karyn, "It's what you need to do now - in this timeline."

Jon thought about that, very grateful that Admiral Forrest had them them come to this region of space, let them come find out about these Xindi. In they hadn't, it might be the humans who had killed millions without cause.

Karyn was not a mindreader, but she was intuitive.

"I don't think humans would ever have done what the Xindi did - at least not humans from your era. You're here because humans know better than to commit genocide based on a story told by a stranger. . .the Xindi, I've got no problems with them as individuals, but their society is splintered in a way that humans can't even comprehend. No. . .the sphere builders had a much better chance in the other timeline, it failed. Now you'll make it fail in this one, too."

****

Lorian stood at his window, over-looking bustling Archer City. It was clean and safe and prosperous. He was proud of what Jonathan Archer, his parents and the rest of the crew were seeing. It hadn't always been easy in those first years, when Lorian was just a boy. Once the colony proved prosperous, there wasn't a pirate or despot in the area that hadn't taken it upon his or herself to conquer Beta X. But they had fought all comers and won.

Now, Lorian had the two men he most admired sitting in his office. Jonathan Archer and Charles Tucker III. It was surreal, seeing his late father as a young man, younger than he was now - even in Vulcan years.

"It's amazing," said Trip, "I see my father in you around the eyes. Now the ears, those are your mother's."

Lorian smiled. That sounded exactly like his father.

"I'm glad you got to meet Lizzie," he said, "She's quite a young woman. And a great doctor. But now it's down to business . . .do you have any questions about the calibrations on the phase canons? Those are key. . .if you don't compensate for the radiation bursts, you'll kill yourselves. . ."

Trip was trying to pay attention, as he knew how important this was. But he kept looking at his son - his and T'Pol's. He was proud of the man, and Trip felt a pang of sorrow at the notion that he would never get a chance to be the man's father, to know him as a boy. Even if he and T'Pol did. . .well, it wouldn't be the same.

Trip considered T'Pol for a moment. He'd always suspected there were worlds of feeling lurking below that cool surface. He'd never been so vain as to think he could access any of them. But on the other hand, didn't opposites attract? T'Pol was certainly an interesting..

"Trip," said Jon, "I need you to pay attention to this. ."

"Yes, Sir."

****

Lizzie led T'Pol down to the beach cottage at the end of the city. T'Pol immediately found the house lovely, with its perfectly manicured and logically planted gardens.

"Why have you brought me here?" she asked the young woman.

"Someone wants to see you," said Lizzie, who pointed to an old woman standing at the back wall of the house, "I'll be back here."

T'Pol realized that she was looking at an elderly version of herself. It was both alarming and comforting to know she had lived so long. The woman turned around.

"Hello, T'Pol," said the older woman.

"Hello," she replied.

"I'm afraid I was just curious to meet you," she said, "It's not often a person gets to meet the younger version of themselves."

"It's not often a person gets to meet an older version of themselves. . ."

The old woman inhaled sharply. She gestured at a small, garden table - set up for tea. The two women sat down.

"I'm sure your wondering how you happened to marry a human," said older T'Pol.

"I suppose I did because it was logical to assume there would be no Vulcans in this part of space at that time," said the younger T'Pol, "So a human was my only option."

"Nonsense. You know that is nonsense. Most people, including Lizzie, think I lost control of my emotions when we entered the Expanse. That's true. But what they don't know is how much my emotions had been eroding because of the Pa'Nar Syndrome and because of spending so much time with humans. . ."

T'Pol looked around. Very few people knew of her illness.

"The emotions. . .they are like the flame and you are the moth."

The younger woman said nothing.

"You'll never be the same as you were," said the older woman, "Do yourself a favor and stop trying. You know your place is among humans. That's why you're still aboard _Enterprise_ when most Vulcans would have left long ago."

The younger woman felt faint - this person knew things about her that she told no one, that no one should know.

The older T'Pol approached the younger. She reached up her hand.

"May I?"

The woman wanted to meld with her, the younger T'Pol knew. It was dangerous, but she trusted her. How could she not?

The younger woman nodded.

"My mind to your mind, my thought to your thoughts," whispered the old T'Pol, who had spent decades perfecting her technique.

Suddenly, the younger T'Pol knew and felt everything from the other timeline. She felt herself breaking from the high command. She felt herself empathizing with Trip, wanting to help him. She knew the terror of the _Seleya_. She felt herself being drawn to Trip's clone and kissing him. She saw herself seducing Trip. She felt her heart break as Jonathan left the ship to die. She felt herself unraveling. . .then quiet. The bond with Trip. Lorian's birth. The incident with Thoren. It all existed in her mind, almost as if she had dreamed it.

"I just wanted you to know," said the older T'Pol, "No matter what you choose."

The older woman then reached up her hand and gave the familiar salute.

"Live Long and Prosper, T'Pol. You deserve it."

****

Malcolm, Hoshi and Travis spent the day wandering around Archer City. For a city only over a hundred years old, it certainly had its charms. All three of them felt proud of what their other selves had helped accomplish here.

"I've got over 83 relatives here," said Travis, "It's unbelievable."

"Phlox has over a 220," said Hoshi, "He and this Amanda had nine children."

Malcolm looked around. Karyn had told him the story of her great, great Aunt. The sorrow of her murder. It was hard to imagine that he had suffered that way, in that other time and place. But then, he wondered if that other self had been more alive that he ever had been.

Looking around, he resolved not to live a life of loneliness. He knew now that he could suffer tremendous loss and heal from that loss and move forward. That gave him strength. He thought about the pretty Crewman Lynch. . .there was certainly possibility there.

****

The younger T'Pol headed toward the shuttle that was taking everyone back to Enterprise. Captain Archer felt he had enough information to justify returning to Earth, even though that had only met two Xindi, and that was there at the colony. The sphere and their makers were the real enemy, and they now had the means to fight them.

T'Pol heard footsteps behind her. Trip soon caught up with her.

"So," he said, "Did you spend any time with our son? He's a good kid," said Trip.

"He's over a hundred years old," said T'Pol, "He's hardly a good kid . . .but he is a good man."

Trip smiled at her. That was just like T'Pol.

"It is. . .interesting to know that of all the options on the ship that you and I choose to have him," she continued.

Trip inwardly laughed at her Vulcan delicacy, but he had to agree with her. The idea of them together wasn't exactly logical. Maybe that's why it had started to appeal to him so much.

"Just think," he said, "you and I were the first Vulcan and Human to have a child."

T'Pol shook her head.

"It wasn't us," she said, "It was other versions of us, under radically different circumstances."

"True," said Trip as he whispered in her ear, "but it's fun to know, isn't it, that under radically different circumstances, we could fall in love."

Fall in love, thought T'Pol. A typical human phrase, describing love as something that could do you damage. What else could happen when you fell? But she remembered, also. That feeling of falling.

"We had our. . honeymoon in Cargo Bay 3. Captain Archer had water installed and you created a makeshift beach," said T'Pol, still remembering.

"Did I?" said Trip, curiously. "What else do you know?"

They were approaching the shuttlepod. T'Pol certainly wasn't going to give any more details in front of the crew.

"Perhaps I'll tell you more at another time," said T'Pol cooly.

As they climbed into the shuttlepod, Trip resolved to take her up on that.

****

The two Captain Archers said goodbye. As Jonathan looked at the young woman who had worked to save _Enterprise_ from mothballs and captained her on a whole series of adventures, he could not have been more proud if she had been his own daughter.

Behind her, he looked at Lizzie and Alex, two other children of Enterprise. They were young. . .and unusual in their ways, but they were also remarkable. Humans living and thriving so far from home, intermarrying with aliens and creating their own hybrid culture. It was a future that looked bright.

"Goodbye, Captain," said Jon.

"Goodbye, Captain," said Karyn "And Good Luck. If you need anything, ever, you know where to find us. We're family. Remember that."

Jon hugged the woman goodbye and boarded the shuttle. He knew what he had to do, and he knew he could do it.

**fin**


End file.
